


Don't call me Lord, call me Love

by Nimbus_Cloud



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bird/Human Hybrids, Cat/Human Hybrids, Childhood Friends, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Ruler AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-05-24 16:16:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 72,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6159379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimbus_Cloud/pseuds/Nimbus_Cloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on Mookie000's Ruler AU artwork</p><p>---</p><p>The kingdom of Nekoma prepares a festival to celebrate the one year anniversary of Kenma's coronation. While his royal court and magisters and guardians look forward to the revelry, Kenma is himself plagued by doubts as to his ability to rule and his growing feelings for one of his sworn guardians. Everything on the surface appears as it should at first, but things get complicated when a kiss takes Kuroo by surprise and an attempted kidnapping goes awry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mookie000](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=mookie000).



> As mentioned in the summary, this story is based on [mookie000](mookie000.tumblr.com)'s [beautiful](http://mookie000.tumblr.com/post/128963817392/this-looks-like-kenma-has-two-huge-guardians) [artwork](http://mookie000.tumblr.com/post/137572641772/how-come-in-your-guardian-au-akaashi-only-has-one) depicting an AU in which Kenma rules a kingdom and has two sworn guardians to protect him (Kuroo and Lev). The visuals of the characters are as she’s drawn them: with cat ears, tails, fangs, claws, wings, etc... I’ve done my best to maintain the mythos she’s created for them while crafting in details of my own for the world they live in.

From the bustling waters of the Bastet Bay, local Viverrini fishing cats, trading merchants docking their boats, and visiting travelers from various kingdoms are all greeted by the sight of the towering alabaster towers of Nekoma castle.  Seated atop Bast’s hill—the acropolis of the feline kingdom—the magnificent palace sat above a flourishing mercantile realm, its spires streaming crimson and gold banners and ribbons into the wind.  The colorful fabrics swaying in the breeze seemed to tease the very clouds in jovial anticipation of the upcoming festival—that which would celebrate the one-year anniversary of Ruler Kenma’s coronation and continuing peace for the land. 

Nekoma’s streets and port were bustling with activity in preparation.  All shops and vendors strung up decorations, merchants brought in heaps of extra stock and supplies, tourists milled about in keen anticipation for a chance to see Nekoma’s beautiful young Ruler.  Secretive, withdrawn… aside from his coronation, none of the common cats had chance to lay eyes on their lord outside of public events such as these, and so rumors flooded the streets exchanged between locals and visitors alike. 

“He’s said to be very beautiful… Pale gold fur that twinkles like moonlight!”

“I’ve heard he has a tail that trails behind him, more than six feet long!”

“I’ve heard tell he sings as well as any nightingale.”

“His guardians are supposed to be quite a sight too… one of them’s a panther, I think.  Black and sleek.”

“One’s got lion’s blood!”

Listening intently to every utterance were two slant-eyed visitors from Nohebi, their forked tongues flickering mischievously as they smiled.  They too were much looking forward to the upcoming celebrations, for they above all wished to lay their gazes upon Nekoma’s Ruler… and bestow unto him a gift from their serpentine liege, Daisho Suguru. 

Inside the castle was a similar fervor as everyone from the Royal Court to the kitchen staff scurried about, the pitter patter of paws filling the air in every corridor.  But none were more restless than Ruler Kenma himself, who kept fidgeting with his claws in the bedchamber while the tailor tested the fit of his new ceremonial robes.

“Lord Kenma, do please stop fidgeting,” Magister Naoi sighed, his tail impatiently whipping side to side behind him.  “A Ruler doesn’t squirm about like a newborn kitten, he sits calm and regal like the lion—“

A loud ripping noise tore all their eyes toward Lev—one of Kenma’s royal guardians—who had just managed to ruin his ceremonial cape with his brandished claws.  Kuroo—Kenma’s other guardian—was shaking his head beside him while being fitted for his own robes, and mumbled to the tailor.

“I said no tassels for Haiba…”

“Perhaps not like _this_ particular lion…” Magister Naoi frowned, ears drawing back and going flat against his hair.

While Lev’s follies frequently served as the negative examples Naoi never asked for, they rather brought a smile to Kenma’s lips and calmed him far more than any firm reminders of his esteemed status.  Naoi’s harsh advice usually agitated Kenma further, until the Magister was eventually shooed out of Kenma’s presence by his prime guardian and lifelong friend, Kuroo. 

“There’s no time to prepare a new cloak before tomorrow…” the royal tailor mewled softly, staring down dismally at the tattered velvet at Lev’s paws. 

“Then I’ll go without one,” Kuroo offered, untying the ribbon at his throat and shrugging off the weighted fabric from his shoulders.  “Since the guardians are meant to match…”

“Why do guardians even need cloaks anyway?” Lev asked tactlessly while bowing apologetically at the maid who cleared the fabric away.  “We should look more like soldiers, shouldn’t we?  With the cloaks we look like every other fancy aristo _cat_ —“

“Lev.” Kuroo growled in warning.  

“They should be fine without them, right Naoi?” Kenma pressed. 

“I doubt that Magister Nekomata would approve—“

“Magister Nekomata’s never cared about formalities,” Kuroo drawled, crossing his arms.  “Or else he’d attend more than one out of every three _glarings_ … and he’d be here right now.  Besides, our glorious Ruler is supposed to be the star of the show anyway; the plainer we look beside him, the better.” 

Magister Naoi bristled quietly before clearing his throat and relenting to the guardian’s logic, granting reprieve to both Lev and to the frazzled royal tailor.  Thankfully, there were no further issues in Kenma’s fitting—the Ruler’s new robes and spats fit him perfectly, no further adjustments necessary.  The tailor and his assistants took their leave with Naoi following soon after to prepare for the evening arrival of Fukurodani’s and Nohebi’s royal convoy. 

At last, Kenma could be left to himself in peace.  As soon as Naoi was out of the door, he fell upon his bed with a light _fwump_ and burrowed himself partially into the covers.  Since first light that day he had been pulled about this way and that for a dozen _glarings_ and consultations about the festival, and he had now only a couple of hours to himself before he would have to prepare for the evening banquet.  A catnap was very much in order.

As their young Ruler sank comfortably into his mattress, Kuroo motioned silently to Lev with a nod of his head, and the younger guardian took his place outside the bedchamber door with a wink. 

“O Ruler…” Kuroo sing-songed, kneeling beside Kenma’s bed.

“I told you not to call me that when we’re alone,” Kenma grumbled into his blanket.  “I hate it when you call me that.”

“Sorry,” Kuroo murmured softly.  “Kenma.”

“Kuro.” Kenma answered.

“I know today’s been tiring for you, but your fatigue is even making _me_ want to get some rest.” 

“That’s not how the connection works—“ Kenma started to complain, but then Kuroo was pouncing into the bed, crushing him with his weight as he took a long, slow stretch.  “K-Kuro!!  Get off me!”

“But I’m tiiiired,” Kuroo drawled, a playful smirk playing on his lips. 

Kenma squirmed feebly against the larger cat, halfheartedly trying to push him off and away, debating whether or not he should make use of his royal status to command Kuroo to get off him.  They used to do this as kittens—Kenma would refuse to leave the warmth and comfort of his bed in the high tower, and Kuroo would roll around on top of him to get him up.  More than a few of those sessions had ended with Kuroo covered in minor scratches, but still grinning broadly since he usually managed to succeed in getting Kenma up afterward.  Surely even Magister Nekomata would frown if he knew this behavior between them had persisted into adulthood—but Kenma had never cared about pleasing his council.  He never wanted to be the Ruler in the first place.

“I don’t wanna,” he grumbled, and Kuroo lifted his weight off him, ears perking. 

“I know you don’t wanna get up but—“

“No,” Kenma corrected.  “I don’t want to do the ceremony tomorrow.”

“It’s a little late to call it off now…”

“What’s there to celebrate anyway?  I’ve only been Ruler for one year, and it’s not as if I’ve done anything special for the kingdom…”

Kuroo knew that wasn’t the truth no matter what Kenma said.  Kenma might never have his predecessor’s strength in battle nor his confidence of character, but he had always been shrewd and perceptive, and that had always informed his actions to the better.  Whenever Kenma and his royal council could not find common ground, whether it was in setting forth a decree or raising a tax or parleying with a neighboring kingdom… Kenma’s instincts had always been in the right.  _Kenma_ had insisted upon maintaining Nekoma’s alliance with Fukurodani, even as his council advised caution in the wake of his predecessor’s untimely demise.  The Magisters mistrusted Ruler Akaashi—politically, he was a closed book.  But Kuroo shared General Yaku’s opinion: the owl kept the snake at bay. 

There were plenty of other examples Kuroo could call to mind, but instead he got himself up to kneel at his liege’s bedside.  When they were kittens, Kuroo would always take Kenma’s hand to comfort him, his own intentions pure and boyish.  Now that they were grown and Kuroo’s heart had grown complicated with unseemly thoughts and desires, they rarely touched as they used to. 

“Kenma,” Kuroo whispered on bended knee.  “The first year of any reign can be tumultuous and full of difficulties… but you’ve not made a single mistake in your royal judgments to date.  Sure, in your first year, you’ve won no wars, you’ve forged no new alliances, and your name invokes no fear in the hearts of your enemies.” 

“Kuro, that’s not exactly—“

“But the kingdom _prospers._   No wars have begun, no existing alliances have been sundered, the treasury is full where your predecessor near emptied it.  Trade is flourishing, and your subjects can fault you for nothing.” 

Their eyes met and Kenma felt a tightness growing in his chest.  It happened sometimes, when Kuroo looked at him a certain way.  Sometimes it was enough to pain him and make Kuroo worry, as if his guardian could feel his desperate longing across their bond—but of course, that wasn’t how the connection worked. 

“Get up, Kuro,” Kenma whispered.  “Don’t kneel.” 

“Do you accept that there is cause for celebration?”

“I accept that I’ve successfully ended my first year on the throne with no _cat_ astrophic mishaps,” Kenma sighed, his ears finally perking.  “And that’s…”

“To your credit.” Kuroo smirked. 

“All right, fine… Now let me get an hour’s rest before the banquet.” 

“As my lord commands.”  Kuroo rose to join Lev outside the bedchamber doors, but he was stopped by the soft fur of Kenma’s tail wrapping around his wrist, pulling at him softly.

“Stay here,” Kenma commanded softly, before releasing Kuroo and laying his head down onto his pillows.  He slept better when Kuroo was beside him—right beside him.  Nothing else, _no one_ else would do.

“All right.”

* * *

 

The banquet hall and grand ballroom of Nekoma palace weren’t particularly lavish.  Kenma had seen in his travels far grander spectacles of architecture and interior design, but what his palace lacked in fine detail it made up for in overall composition.  No one room outshone another, no singular part embellished at the expense of the whole picture.  In place of elaborate carved pillars or stained-glass windows, there was clean-cut marble and finely wrought gold, the patterns in the stone looping seamlessly from room to room. 

In the banquet hall, Kenma sat at the head of a long dinner table, his royal guests seated on either side.  Ruler Akaashi graced his left, hailing from their allied kingdom of Fukurodani, and Ruler Daishou graced his right, hailing from the neighboring kingdom of Nohebi.  Nekoma and Nohebi kept a tenuous peace and inviting them for the celebrations had been by the wise advice of Kenma’s council.  Yet it exhausted Kenma merely to sit next to the snake for dinner, however little they conversed—the scaly man wouldn’t stop leering at him.  He was sure even Akaashi—even Kuroo—could sense his discomfort. 

“I don’t trust him,” Kuroo grumbled, arms crossed where he stood. 

The guardians stood removed from the banquet table, watching their lords and the other nobles dine and make merry.  Bokuto was standing beside Kuroo and Lev, his feathers half quivering from excitement—he loved banquets and parties. 

“ _Whooo_ don’t you trust?” Bokuto turned a raised eyebrow at Kuroo.  “My Ruler Akaashi is—“

“I meant Daishou Suguru.” Kuroo interrupted, scowling at the way the snake smiled at Kenma between bites.  “He’s fishy.”

“I thought he was a snake?” Lev chimed in. 

“Not the brightest little kitten, are you, Lev?” Bokuto laughed.  “But Daishou came tonight without his guardians even—shouldn’t that make him less of a threat?”

“That just makes him more suspicious.  It’s unlikely he would’ve come all this way completely without them—where are they really?  Hiding somewhere and setting in place some fiendish plot?” Kuroo bared his fangs, growling.  “I don’t like it.”

“Well he’s only here for one night, so you won’t have to worry about him for long.” Lev said with a smile, scratching at his ears.

Kuroo looked at the younger guardian with wide eyes, ears perking.

“Where did you get information like that?” 

“From my sister.  Alisa.” 

It was so easy to forget, given Lev’s shortcomings as a guardian, that his older sister was, in fact, an elegant lady of the royal court.  She boasted over a dozen suitors vying for her hand, including the General Yaku and once including Daishou Suguru himself. 

“Where is she anyway?”

“Oh, she didn’t want to come tonight because Daishou would be here… he didn’t react all that well to her rejection a while back, so she’s laying low.  But she’ll be at the festival tomorrow, and she’s already given me an earful for ripping my cloak for the procession.”

“Cloaks are such a bizarre concept…” Bokuto mused, ruffling his feathers. 

Kuroo hid a smirk behind his claws.  Imagining Bokuto attempting to maneuver his wings around a curtain of heavy fabric was an amusing thought—he’d certainly look more like the idiot that he is.   

“Ruler Akaashi could wear one.  A half one draped over his shoulder.  He can’t fly anyway.”  Lev added innocently, and Kuroo had to whack him a good one before Bokuto got the chance. 

“Lev!  What am I always telling you?”

“To take my hairball medicine…?”

“Think before you speak!” 

Bokuto was bristling, his plumes on edge, wings menacingly threatening to unfurl.  Kuroo held out his hand to attempt to stay the owl,

“Calm down.  Lev is basically a cub; he says things out of stupidity not malice.  He meant nothing by it, put your damn wings away.”

“One more word against my lord and the lion gets it,” Bokuto warned with narrowed eyes, talons twitching. 

From their seats at the table, Kenma and Akaashi watched their guardians carefully, unable to simply ignore the minor disturbance they were causing.  Bokuto with half-extended wings wasn’t easy to overlook.  Several of the guests seated at the table were also caught avidly watching them.

“I apologize, lord Kenma.  My guardian Bokuto is prone to frequent mood swings—“

“I rather think he was provoked.  My guardian Lev is prone to saying whatever stupid thing occurs to his mind at any given time.”  Kenma gave a soft smile and a gentle bow of his head to the Fukurodani Ruler.  Given some more time together, he thought maybe Kuroo and Bokuto could become quite chummy, but as it was they bickered ceaselessly.

“Such hot-blooded guardians between the pair of you,” Daishou smirked.  “Mammals do get so worked up.  But that _is_ a part of their charm.” 

“Birds aren’t technically mammals,” Akaashi corrected.  “Though closer to them than reptiles, perhaps.  Where are _your_ guardians tonight, Lord Daishou?” 

“I’m afraid they are a bit _cold_ … frivolities such as these don’t interest them in the slightest.  And seeing as it is a festival, I was assured there’d be no danger even traveling without them.” Daishou hissed softly, his tongue flickering out between his long, thin lips.  “Though clearly you’ve seen far more danger than I, Lord Akaashi; are you sure you are content to keep the one guardian in your service?  I would think you’d execute him for his failures and instill two new ones to protect you.” 

“As I said, we share more in common with mammals,” Akaashi replied with a frigid smile.  “I’d never do something so _cold-blooded_ to an owl who’s sworn his life to protect me.” 

“Punishing failure is only natural,” Daishou countered with a nonchalant shrug, overlooking the veiled snub.  “My wish is that your guardians _never_ fail you, Lord Kenma.” He placed his long, scaled fingers atop Kenma’s on the table and winked at Kuroo when he caught the guardian’s eye.  “Long may you reign.” 

Kuroo felt his hair stand on edge, pupils dilating dangerously at the sight of Daishou touching Kenma so casually.  Blasted snakes…

“Now that’s a scary face,” Bokuto poked Kuroo’s cheek, then withdrew his finger hastily as Kuroo nearly bit his finger off in retaliation—those fangs looked frightfully sharp.

“You had a face just like it not too long ago, Bokuto!” Lev cried, still a bit traumatized from having been on the receiving end of it. 

“But your fellow guardian’s got murder in his eyes.”

“He’s touching Kenma with his disgusting scales.”  Kuroo growled.

“Kenma’s allowed to be touched.  You don’t mind when Akaashi does it—“

“He does mind when _I_ do it—“ Lev added.

“Snakes are different.  They’re treacherous and deceitful.  I don’t think they’re capable of feeling any real affection—and I’m certain Nohebi had something to do with how Kenma’s predecessor died.” 

“Please don’t say that so loudly,” Lev whispered.  “That’s only inviting trouble.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it, Lev,” Bokuto smirked, preening.  “I think it’s just pure and simple jealousy talking.”

Kuroo turned his irritated snarl to Bokuto, snapping his fangs at him again in warning.  They didn’t know each other well enough for such jests between them, and Kuroo was _not_ fond of the idea that the horned owl could be that perceptive of his feelings.  But the only thing that could remove the displeasure from the guardian’s face was when his eyes met Kenma’s across the banquet hall, and the amber orbs stared at him with a look that clearly pleaded, _Daishou makes me really uncomfortable, save me, Kuroo._ It was a look Kenma sometimes gave him during _glarings_ where the Magisters were being difficult.  To this, the black panther could only reply with a familiar, reassuring smile.  _Endure it, Kenma.  We all have to do our duty._

Indeed, the feast came to an end only minutes later, when Magister Nekomata called everyone’s attention to him and led them all to the ballroom for music and dancing. 

Lev was excited for the change of pace—he loved to dance.  His ears were twitching atop his head and his tail furled and unfurled repeatedly.

“I usually dance with Alisa most of the time, I wish she had come tonight…” he mumbled as they entered the ballroom.  The guardians were the last ones to enter behind their lords.  “But maybe my dance card will be full anyway?”

“You’re a guardian, Lev, however incompetent.  At least a few young cats will want to dance with you.” Kuroo sighed, pulling at his hair. 

Strictly speaking, the guardians weren’t at all required to dance, but not to do so would reflect poorly on themselves and the Ruler they protected.  Kuroo heard what the common tomcat said about Kenma.  Those who adored him called him quiet and enigmatic; those who didn’t know what to make of him called him aloof and unsociable.  If his guardians were similarly distant, it cast an icy air upon the entire sovereignty.  So despite his disinterest, Kuroo would dance with every request that came his way—and there were plenty that lined up to do so, even if he was known as a ruthless killer from his army days. 

Kenma, even if he would refuse most of the requests for the evening, did his duty by at least dancing with the first few requests on his dance card, since they were always reserved for the most prominent members of the court.  To turn down the highest born aristo _cats_ would be considered an extreme indignity, and Kenma needed many allies in the early years of his reign; Cats were so very fickle.  Even with his sworn Magisters and Council, Kenma had to play his cards carefully in order to please them.  Only Magisters Naoi and Nekomata’s were subject to the full brunt of Kenma’s puerility, since they had practically helped raise him—he need never doubt their loyalty. 

When the orchestra struck up the first song, the ballroom was soon full of swirling colors and happy chattering.  Despite his worries, Lev’s first dance was promised to a young Akane, a sister to a fellow soldier from Lev’s regiment from his days as a common soldier.  Even Akaashi entertained the first few requests that came his way, and Kenma refused a later dance with Daishou, claiming he was tired and dizzy.  Perhaps the most surprising development was that not only was Bokuto’s dance card completely full of requests, but there were quite a few admirers who refused to dance with anyone else not the owl—it seemed many coveted a chance to dance and converse with the one guardian of Fukurodani… Nekoma didn’t receive very many winged guests. 

Kenma and Akaashi spent much of their time removed from the dance floor with one another, watching their guardians move about on the ballroom floor.

“I’ll be glad to return the favor of your hospitality soon when you come to Fukurodani for your combat training,” Akaashi said to Kenma as the fifth long waltz was concluded, an upbeat foxtrot soon to follow.  “Though I can’t promise it’ll be as festive as all this.  I’m glad Bokuto’s enjoying himself here since he rarely gets a chance back home.”

“I don’t… much like parties myself,” Kenma admitted quietly, fidgeting with his hair.  “If it weren’t for the Magisters, I’d probably never have them.  But the kingdom likes them.  So does Lev.”

“And Kuroo?”

Kenma’s eyes found the dark figure of his friend on the dance floor almost immediately—it was always easy to find one another—and watched as he smiled and chatted with the young lady he held between his arms, leading her gracefully through the dance.  Kuroo was sociable where Kenma was not, and the young Ruler disliked that his guardian could smile so easily at others. 

“I think he enjoys himself at them,” Kenma murmured.  “And everyone else loves him too.” He added bitterly, trying not to scowl. 

“Does that displease you?” Akaashi pressed.

“Ah… Um… N-not—“

“My Lord Kenma!” Daishou approached them then, swaying slowly off the dance floor.  “The evening’s been most diverting, I thank you for the invite.  But since I must return to Nohebi tonight, I’m afraid now is the hour of my departure.” 

“Thank you for attending tonight,” Kenma bowed his head courteously and hoped his relief didn’t show too plainly on his features. 

“If only we could have shared just one dance…” the snake Lord hissed wistfully, but he courteously bowed low at the waist, taking Kenma’s hand in his own to lay a cold kiss upon it. 

It sent an unpleasant shiver up Kenma’s spine, and across the ballroom, a young lady mewled in pain as Kuroo stepped roughly on her poor paws and crushed her poor hands in his grip. 

“Oh, I’m—I’m very sorry…” Kuroo stammered to the poor thing though his eyes continuously flicked over to where Kenma stood, his attention far more focused on his lord than on the lady. 

Daishou Suguru caught one of his fervid glances and smiled long and wide before excusing himself and exiting the ballroom. 

“I’m… I’m so sorry—could you excuse me?” Kuroo swiftly abandoned the dance, following after the serpent Ruler out of the ballroom and down the palace corridors.

Quietly blending into the shadows, Kuroo trailed him, keeping several paces behind, his body on high alert.  He didn’t believe for a single moment that Daishou Suguru had traveled all this way without his guardians to accompany him.  Kuroo fully expected an ambush, maybe a trap… Maybe he’d find them both lurking somewhere in the castle.  Or he might catch a rendezvous of them with their lord, sinister plots hissed between them… But contrary to all his suspicions, Kuroo watched as Daishou merely boarded a coach that whisked him away on the swiftest road out of the kingdom.  He might have followed, just to make sure that Daishou left Nekoma completely without incident, but he felt Kenma pull along their connection, reaching for him.  So he watched the coach drive on until it was out of sight, then he returned to the ball.

Kenma was waiting with furrowed brows and that little pout on his lips Kuroo usually loved.  Usually.

“Apologies, my lord,” Kuroo said, bowing his head.  In front of the royal court and certainly in the presence of another Ruler, Kuroo always maintained formalities, no matter how much Kenma insisted to the contrary.  “I wanted to check on something regarding perimeter safety…”

“That’s what the palace guards are for.” Kenma said crossly. 

“I understand that—“

“You’re not supposed to leave my side.”

 _Ah_ , Kuroo thought to himself.  Kenma had fallen into one of his grumpy moods.

Akaashi found the tense silence between them an excellent opportunity to excuse himself—for refreshments—and left them be, turning his attentions toward Bokuto and his gaggle of new adoring fans. 

“My lord—“ Kuroo tried to remain civil.  He could plainly see Kenma was upset with him for whatever reason, but the grand ballroom wasn’t the best place to have one of their kitten spats. 

“Don’t call me that.”  Kenma could feel a heat rising to his ears, his tail bristling.  He wasn’t even sure why he was upset really—he knew deep down Kuroo was only trying to do his job… but it was a job Kenma had never wanted him to get involved in.  When he had been chosen to be the next Ruler, Kuroo had immediately volunteered himself to be a guardian, despite the immense dangers that came with the position and despite Kenma’s protests. 

Kuroo knew the eyes of the Magisters were on them even if most of the guests were otherwise preoccupied, so he kept his voice low and replied firmly, not as Kenma’s guardian, but as his friend.

“Kenma… Now is not the time.” 

But Kenma was tired and frustrated by feelings he didn’t understand, so he stamped his foot and hissed. 

“I’m tired,” he said petulantly, averting his gaze to the floor.  “Tomorrow’s going to be a full day; I’m going to bed.” 

“You have to announce you’re leaving.” Kuroo reminded him.

“Tell Nekomata to do it.” 

“Kenma—“ Kuroo said a little too loudly.  A few heads turned toward them in the room, eyes darting between the two and noticing the growing tension.  _Shit._

Magister Naoi ran in to diffuse the situation, announcing Kenma’s departure with the promise of an even grander celebration for the following day.  He carefully mentioned that their Ruler would require much rest for what was to come, but assured the guests that they were free to enjoy the night for however long they wished.  Kuroo accompanied Kenma as he hurriedly left the ballroom, nipping at his heels, and Lev caught up to them soon after.  The young guardian was undoubtedly confused by their sudden flight, but didn’t ask questions.  Once Kenma was sound asleep, Kuroo had every intention of letting Lev return to the party.  Too often the young lion got caught up in the crossfire of their arguments. 

Kenma slammed the doors to his bedchambers, leaving his guardians outside, and tore off his cloak and ceremonial dressings.  He kicked off his spats, ripped off his tassels and charms, and flung himself into his bed, burying his face into his pillows.  He had stormed out like a kitten, and he knew he was going to have to apologize tomorrow to the Magisters, to Akaashi and Bokuto, even Lev.  He’d have to apologize to Kuroo too, but… but this was all Kuroo’s fault to begin with!  Because he was too charming, too handsome, too kind…  Would it have killed him to sit out for a dance or two?  And then running after danger like that—nobody trusted Daishou, even the Magisters had warned the palace guard to be wary of him—he didn’t even take Lev!  And Kenma could never forgive himself if Kuroo got seriously hurt trying to protect him.

After years of always being together, practically joined at the hip, they became bonded to each other as Ruler and guardian—a deep magical connection based on loyalty and devotion—yet all it had done was push them farther apart with Kuroo seemingly doing everything in his power to keep Kenma an arm’s length away.  All because of rules and social decorum… because Kenma becoming Ruler somehow changed him.  He tried his best to remember the simpler times, back when they would spend lazy hours in the apple orchard or basking in the sun by the river.  In those days, Kuroo never looked at him with the melancholy that sometimes clouded his eyes now.  Kenma shut his eyes, willing himself to sleep with the pleasant memories of times gone by. 

* * *

 

_Never let the sun go down on your anger._

Kenma couldn’t remember where he had heard the saying; Maybe from a lesson in school, or maybe it had been one of the few words his mother had left him.  Whatever the source, the proverb was ringing annoyingly in his mind as he was made ready for the festival in the morning.  After a troubled night’s sleep, he wanted to talk to Kuroo about the previous night, but there was simply no time. 

He was woken by his chamber attendants early for grooming and dressing.  Kuroo and Lev were apparently being prepared in a separate room.  His tail was brushed a hundred times over until the fur gleamed in the light, the hair on his head gently curled into cascading waves that fell about his face.  They trimmed his claws and painted them gold and applied shimmering powders to his face and shining glosses to his lips.  Kenma felt caked in it all and only felt a little better about it when they told him that the guardians were receiving similar grooming, albeit not as much.  Once he was perfumed and adorned in all the fine regalia the royal tailor had prepared, he met with his guardians in the audience chamber of the principal floor where two royal palanquins awaited to bear them out of the palace and into the city.  Akaashi and Bokuto were seated in one, Kenma would be seated in the other with Kuroo and Lev on either side. 

They all looked rather decorated, Kenma thought, even Akaashi had clearly come prepared with the formal attire customary to his kingdom, but he wasn’t given long to look.  The second he entered, the entire hall bent low to their knees, and he felt himself blushing furiously.  Several members of the court gasped and gushed about how magnificent he appeared as he walked past them.  Several more shouted for his long and prosperous reign.  When he reached his palanquin, Kuroo rose at last to greet him, the shock in his eyes so evident Kenma’s heart raced. 

“You’re breathtaking,” Kuroo whispered, hand over his heart, almost purring. 

 _That’s not fair_ , Kenma thought to himself.  Having Kuroo say such things to him with that face took Kenma’s own breath away and that was before he got a chance to admire everything else about his guardian.  His lip quivered as his ears twitched in embarrassment, and he said nothing, merely waited until Kuroo held out his hand to help Kenma up into the open palanquin. 

Once Kenma was seated, Kuroo and Lev boarded and took their places beside him.  Once the Magisters were mounted on their lionesses, the royal convoy took off from the palace, proceeding slowly from the palace gates down the winding roads of Bast’s hill, where the citizenry lined the streets, cheering with delight.  The procession would loop around the base of Bast’s hill, then travel down all the major roads of the city with music, dancing, and free-flowing wine to follow in their wake.  By noon, they would arrive at the Cheshire Amphitheater, where they would bear witness to plays, games, concerts, and other entertainment in honor of the day.  But the royal parade was a chance for every feline in the city to lay eyes on their Ruler if even for a brief, passing moment, and it was a time-honored tradition. 

Kenma did his best to smile and wave throughout—he was supposed to take this opportunity to gaze upon his subjects and remember that everything he did as Ruler was in service of his realm, but his eyes were repeatedly drawn to the dark guardian by his side.  Kuroo and Lev both were clad in jet black armor, freshly polished and embossed with varying designs.  It was ceremonial, never worn in the line of duty, but it certainly made them look intimidating with its pointed pauldrons and sharp edges.  Kuroo’s naturally wild hair had been styled with additional spikes, the corners of his eyes painted with red.  Even his claws had been painted black.  Lev’s hair in contrast had been combed to smooth perfection, neatly tucked out of his face.  His eyes too had been painted red, but it seemed his dressers also managed to get some gloss onto his lips where they had failed with Kuroo.  It surprised Kenma to see such a serious expression on Lev’s face since the young guardian spent most of his time smiling stupidly and generally being a clumsy fool.  Honestly, they both appeared stunning; Kenma fully understood why all the females swooned when looking at them.  But at least during the procession, Kuroo wasn’t obligated to dance with any of his admirers. 

“Kenma looks quite beautiful today,” Akaashi murmured quietly to Bokuto in their palanquin.  “And it seems his public adores him.” 

“Your public adores you too, my lord,” Bokuto insisted.  “If we held a similar celebration, they’d fly out in swarms to see you.”

“Thank you for saying so.” Akaashi smiled gently; he knew Bokuto spoke truly. 

But a public celebration for the crown would require Bokuto to be present beside him before their citizens, and many no longer considered the great horned owl fit to be a guardian.  Akaashi’s lost wing was Bokuto’s greatest disgrace, and his subjects had few qualms whispering about it _ad nauseam_.  At the very least, they insisted upon a second guardian for their liege, but their complaints fell on deaf ears. 

“It’s me they’d chuck pebbles at…” Bokuto muttered shamefully, bowing his head low. 

“Their opinion means little, Bokuto.”  Akaashi reassured him with a smile.  “I decide my guardians, and I have chosen you.  I intend to keep you, whatever they say.” 

“M-my lord…” Bokuto sniffed, eyes filling immediately with tears. 

His crown was as much a means of keeping Bokuto close to him as it was a means to rule.  Selfish, he knew… but he suspected that Kenma also knew something about selfishness with regards to his guardians.  He could see how the young cat’s eyes repeatedly flickered over to his dark protector in the palanquin that drove beside theirs.  Of course their lives were devoted to duty and honor, but if they couldn’t retain _some_ personal pleasures, nobody would ever want to be Ruler.   

* * *

 

As the parade made its way from Bast’s Hill through the tourist districts, Marie, Berlioz, and Toulouse, the crowds growing thicker and more animated as they neared the city center, two members of the throng watched intently for the procession, making light conversation with the locals. 

“So what happens after the parade then?” one hissed nonchalantly, licking lazily at his iced cream.  It was a delicacy they didn’t have in Nohebi, and he had grown rather fond of it.    

“They’ll have games and music and shows in the Cheshire Amphitheater—tickets sold out weeks ago though if you were hoping to get in, sorry fellas.” 

“Oh that’s no trouble… as long as the parade isn’t our only chance to see the Ruler.”  The other sighed wistfully.

“The evening festival down in the Bay is the whole point,” the local shopkeeper insisted.  “the Viverrini put on a boat show, and the Ruler himself will do a ritual dance… and then there are the fireworks!”

“Oooh… ending the night with a bang!”

“Just beforehand, I think he has to purify himself alone at the Sekhmet Shrine… but they block off the crowds from getting too close there.” 

“Oh what a shame…”

“Well you can’t just follow the Ruler around all day, there are plenty of other things to see and do during the Festival!  I’d actually recommend—“

“Here he comes!” cried out a voice in the crowd.

“I can see the parade!” chimed another.

And then the mob milled and shoved them every which way as the procession drew near, and the two snakes huddled close, their eyes drawn immediately to the fair cat seated high in the large crimson palanquin between two rather intimidating guardians.

“He isss quite the beauty, rather…” one hissed quietly to his companion.

“If he’s removed from his guardians for the purification…”

“That’s when we’ll ssseize our chance.” 

Before the palanquins passed them by, the two slithered away from the crowd, quietly slipping away to lie in wait at the shrine.  Locals were always so helpful about these things.

* * *

 

After nearly an hour of parading around the city, and after seeing Bokuto and Akaashi chatting out of the corner of his eye, Kenma bit his lip and sighed a little.  The Magisters never said he couldn’t talk during the procession.  Soon they’d be coming up on the amphitheater, and then he’d be allowed to relax a little.  He’d watch the shows from a special seating area reserved for himself and his guests, and the crowd would have their eyes on the spectacle, not him.  Being the center of attention was his least favorite thing in all the world.

“How much longer?” he asked softly, startling his guardians with the sudden inquiry. 

Lev looked around their current area of town and glanced at a passing clock before answering,

“Maybe another half hour?”

“All right…” Kenma replied as Lev turned to face forward again, eyes fixed on the waving spectators. 

Another few minutes passed by in stifling silence before Kenma attempted conversation again.

“What shows do you think we’ll see?” 

Again, it was Lev who answered him with Kuroo still sitting in silence—probably still upset about his outburst the previous night.

“Alisa mentioned something about an opera… The Tragedy of Simba, Prince of Pride Rock.  At least, I think she said it was an opera, it might just be a play.  She read it to me once when I was younger, but I didn’t really understand it.”

Kenma had read it, in fact, and he knew Kuroo had too, but the older guardian sat staring resolutely ahead, refusing to indulge in the conversation even a little.  _Stingy_ , Kenma thought.  Normally he was the one who sat in silence.  Well, when in doubt… misbehave, he supposed. 

“I’ve read it.  Kuroo read it with me when we were younger.  We used to pretend I was Simba and he was Nala—“

“It was definitely the other way around!” Kuroo hissed, turning a frightful glare upon Lev who had started choking on his own laughter. 

“It’s your word against mine, Kuro,” Kenma sneered.  “And I’m your Ruler, so…”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow at him, baring a fanged smile that sent a slight shiver down Kenma’s spine. 

“Well if we’re sharing stories, should I tell Lev about how you used to hide from our tutors by climbing up the trees in the apple orchard and then getting stuck there?” 

A furious blush crept up Kenma’s features, as Lev (very loudly) _awwww’d_ at the revelation, turning affectionate eyes to his liege. 

“If I’d found you as a kitten stuck in a tree, I’d have helped get you down, my lord!” Lev gushed, a slight blush adorning his features.

“You’re younger than our esteemed Ruler, Lev—I don’t think you were this monstrously tall as a cub, were you?”

“E-enough!” Kenma stammered, huffing and trying to calm the heat in his cheeks.  He should have known better.  Teasing Kuroo usually backfired on him somehow. 

But when Kuroo laughed aloud, his eyes crinkling and his fangs glimmering in the sunlight, Kenma felt his heart pick up a rapid pace again, the pink returning to his cheeks with a vengeance.  _No fair_ , he thought again.  Kuroo didn’t even have to say anything to agitate him.

The three spent the rest of the procession in quiet conversation, the tension finally dissipating from the night before.  Lev was the most chatty, and he went on and on about whatever topic caught his fancy, though over half of his topics were hearsay from his older sister.  When he became engrossed in a dramatic reenactment of a nasty encounter with a pair of Siamese twins… Kuroo caught Kenma staring at him and, after a little bit of blushing and nervous fidgeting, they both smiled affectionately at one another—their first of the long day.

Kuroo mouthed a silent, ‘ _I’m sorry’_ at him and Kenma mouthed back a voiceless, ‘ _Me too.’_

* * *

 

He had to hand it to his Magisters—stuffy as they were in all other aspects of palace life—they did know how to put on a show.  Between them and the wealthier members of the royal court, no less than one opera, two concerts, a traveling gymnastic circus, and an athletics contest had been sponsored.  From up in their special seats, the members of the Court dined lightly on endless hors d'oeuvres, and drank deep of fine vintage wines.  Kenma’s cheeks were flushed from drink, his stomach full and happy as he watched the current spectacle: an example display of a sport brought to them from a faraway kingdom, in which players rallied a small white ball across a wide net that divided the playing field.  The finer points of the rules were lost on him, but he found it no less fascinating to watch.  It pleased him too to see Kuroo and Lev so engrossed in the match—he loved watching Kuroo get excited about things, it so rarely happened anymore. 

“The way they spike the ball over the net is just so amazing!” Lev was shouting, long arms waving frantically, mimicking the players’ motions.  “What a satisfying way to score a point!”

“No, it’s all about defense—the same in battle!  Those well-timed blocks are the real highlight plays.” Kuroo was watching with fangs bared, jaws snapping occasionally when something impressed him. 

“This would all be much more intense if it were held in mid-air!” Bokuto pondered, his feathers rustling. 

“No no no, that takes the challenge out of it,” Kuroo argued.  “With wings in mid-air, you don’t have to worry nearly as much about the timing of the jumps, and no matter a player’s athleticism, they could always get to a high point to strike the ball.” 

“I’m sure the rules could be adjusted a little…” Bokuto grumbled.

“Then it wouldn’t be what we’re watching.  Little point to that—“ Kuroo countered.

“No wonder you’re a fan of _blocking_ …” the owl huffed, crossing his arms with pouting lips.  The panther knew just how to impede his every attempt at fun. 

“Are we to never hear the end of your lovers’ quarrels?”  Akaashi chided, smiling at the delightful giggle that erupted from Kenma at his words.

“Please, don’t even jest!” Kuroo scowled, turning his back to the owl guardian with a dismissive flick of his tail. 

“Kenma—my lord, would you play?” Lev asked suddenly.

“…I suppose… I could?” He replied tentatively, surprising no one more than himself.  Everyone knew Kenma hated exerting himself in physical activities. 

“You could be the one who tosses the ball to us!” Lev chirped, his smile growing wider and wider as his liege seemed to actually consider the possibility. 

“Could you imagine such a game growing popular in the royal court?” Magister Naoi laughed, though he was also enjoying the match immensely.

“I could think of several tomcats who’d love to give it a go,” Magister Nekomata chuckled, taking a deep swig of his wine.  “Colonel Taketora would pounce on the opportunity undoubtedly, and then his whole regiment would follow.” 

“That would be a sight…” Kuroo smirked.  “I’m sure the Colonel would be much like Lev, wholly focused on aggressive spiking.” 

“I’d love to play a match against the Colonel!” Lev declared, then turned his pleading eyes to Kenma.  “What say you, my lord?  Let’s introduce this… um…” he was bad with names when sober, the wine didn’t help.

“Volleyball?” Akaashi supplied.

“Yes!  Let’s introduce it to the stiffs in the palace!” 

“It makes no difference to me,” Kenma shrugged.  “I’m sure the sport will grow popular even among the alley-cats judging by how excited this crowd is.” 

“Having said that, you are aware that you’re now obligated to join in, _my lord_?” Kuroo sneered, his clawed fingers tapping away at his chin. 

“Is that a challenge, Kuro?” Kenma teased, eyes half-lidded and a mischievous smirk playing upon his features.

Much taken aback by Kenma’s sudden boldness, a sudden flush came unbidden to the guardian’s cheeks and the whole gathering laughed—what on earth did he need to be embarrassed for? 

All too soon, the games were at an end.  Magister Nekomata gave a final closing speech to the day’s events, thanking all the spectators for coming to celebrate their Ruler’s coronation.  Kenma himself gave a few words of thanks to their audience, and then it was time for all of them to stumble as best they could towards the Shrine for Kenma’s purification.  Funny, none of them seemed quite so drunk when they were all sitting down, but now that they had to stand and actually walk somewhere, the inebriation was quickly showing—on some more than others.  Lev was having trouble walking in straight lines, his body swaying uncontrollably from side to side and his long tail trailing on the floor behind him.  Kuroo and Bokuto seemed the most sober with only their excessive volume giving away their impaired senses.  Even Akaashi was clinging to Bokuto’s arm for stability. 

Kenma inevitably fell behind—the weight of his ceremonial robes only further hindering his progress.  Kuroo sent Lev and the Magisters on ahead to prepare the palanquins and fell back to keep time with his little lord.  Kenma insisted that was unnecessary—if only the hallway would stop twisting, he’d be able to walk just fine.  Really, it was the building’s fault.  He turned to the nearest wall to tell it how rude it was being when his paws tripped over a fold in his cloak and he went tumbling down into Kuroo’s ready arms. 

“Oops!” Kenma giggled, arms flying up to wrap around Kuroo’s neck.  “Sorry…” he added in a whisper.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kuroo assured him gently, adjusting Kenma’s body in his arms to help him up.  He furrowed his brows when he realized Kenma was no longer in the mood to support his own weight.  “Do you want me to carry you?”

“Mmhmm,” Kenma mumbled sleepily, drawing closer.  “Like you used to.” 

Kuroo laughed and tucked an arm under Kenma’s knees, the other firmly nestled beneath his shoulders, lifting him slowly and carefully up—he wasn’t fully sober himself, and the last thing he wanted to do was send them both tumbling down the stairs of the amphitheater.  That would be quite the undignified end to an incredibly short reign. 

“Well I think it’s a little undignified to piggyback you like we used to—plus the armor on my shoulders is a little pokey.” 

Kenma pouted but relented to being carried bridal-style with little fuss. 

“We can’t do anything like we used to anymore,” he grumbled quietly as he listened to the gentle pitter patter of Kuroo’s paws on the stone floor.  “I miss it.” 

“I know,” Kuroo replied softly.  “I’m sorry.” 

“There’s no going back anymore, is there?” Kenma asked wistfully, his fingers mindlessly fidgeting with the short hairs on the base of Kuroo’s neck.  The guardian’s hair had always been coarse and thick, and it felt solid beneath his fingertips. 

“No.” came the quiet reply.

“Only forward, right?”

“That’s right,” Kuroo smiled.  He had said those words to Kenma when he had first been chosen for royal examination.  _There’s no going back now; only forward._

“Okay,” Kenma whispered.  “Forward then.”  Then he pulled himself up by his arms and pressed his lips to Kuroo’s. 

It was an excellent thing Kuroo’s body had been battle-trained and knew to withstand sudden shock, otherwise he might have unceremoniously dropped his liege.  His—Kenma was his Ruler, his lord, his sovereign and there were only a thousand reasons why Kuroo should not be kissing him right now.  But his body had yearned for this, so much it left him aching, and he couldn’t resist leaning into the kiss, bringing Kenma closer to him and deepening the pressure between their lips. 

When Kenma nibbled on his lower lip and grabbed a fistful of Kuroo’s hair with a soft moan, it jolted Kuroo back to his senses, and he pulled away from the kiss.  When Kenma whined and tried to bring their mouths back together again, Kuroo turned his head away. 

“Kuro—“

“We can’t.  We shouldn’t.  We’re drunk…”

Kenma furrowed his brows and squirmed in Kuroo’s arms, demanding to be let down.  The guardian obliged obediently, but Kenma refused to let him go that easily.  He kept his arms firmly wrapped around the guardian’s neck, keeping their faces close.  Kuroo’s expression was unreadable—why?  Wasn’t he just kissing him?  Kenma hadn’t imagined the way Kuroo’s strong arms had drawn them closer and the way his lips had responded to his own. 

“Kenma, you’re the Ruler.  I’m sworn to protect you.”

“Is there anywhere it’s written that you can’t protect me and kiss me at the same time?” Kenma tried to tease, tried to ignore how Kuroo was pushing him away.

“I’m unworthy of you.  I always have been, but even more so now that you’re—“

“Don’t say that.”

“We have our respective duties and mine… mine doesn’t allow for—“

“You’re rejecting me.”  Kenma felt his body grow cold, his heart sinking. 

“My lord—“

“Don’t call me that!!!” 

With a swift turn of his heel, Kenma ran hard and fast, his heart pounding his ears.  Kuroo wasn’t coming after him—the distance between them grew only wider, and tears burned at Kenma’s eyes.  He came upon the others, the palanquins prepared and ready for departure, glittering and regal, and the weight of his duties came rushing back like a slap to the face. 

“Kenma?” Akaashi’s voice was the first to reach him, touched with concern.  “My lord, what troubles you?”  He made to rise from his palanquin, Bokuto swiftly following.

Lev rushed to his side, kneeling and looking up with concern at Kenma’s tears, immediately examining his liege for any signs of injury.  But that didn’t make sense.  If Kenma had been injured, Lev would have felt it immediately—he would have known.  There was no physical damage here.  Only…

“My lord?”

His Magisters followed soon after, Magister Naoi holding out an embroidered handkerchief and frantically asking if he should call upon the doctor.

“It’s nothing,” Kenma breathed, struggling to catch his breath. 

“My lord—“ Lev mewled helplessly.  “What can I do?” 

 _Poor Lev,_ Kenma thought.  The boy was trained to deal with combat, not heartbreak.  There was nothing he or anyone else could do. 

“It’s the wine,” Kenma sniffed.  “It’s not sitting well.  That’s all.”  He took the handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes, staining the white cloth with the glittering powders of his makeup.  “Let’s just go.”

“Where’s Kuroo?” came Bokuto’s voice. 

At just the mention of his name, Kenma’s heart twinged with a dull pain, and he bit his lip. 

“He’s—“

“Ah, sorry I fell behind!” Kuroo came jogging toward them.  “I uh… had to use the facilities.” 

“Oversharing, Kuroo,” Magister Nekomata harrumphed.  “Come on then.”

He sounded so calm.  Kenma hated him for that.  Here it took Kenma every ounce of his being to hold back his tears, and Kuroo could convincingly tell everyone he just had to take a piss.  Fuming, he boarded his palanquin with Lev’s help and sat the rest of the way to the Shrine in silence. 

Sekhmet Shrine was a natural wonder, built into nature as opposed to clearing the earth to make room for it.  In certain areas of the architecture it was hard to tell where the artificially sculpted stones differed from the natural stones that made the shrine’s foundations.  A series of caves opened to the sky above, the caverns housed glittering geodes on nearly every wall, and in the deepest winding parts lay a solitary pool of water, pure and shimmering, unnaturally clear and bright.  There were traces of sorcery here, left by some ancient power they couldn’t quite fathom, and the place had been deemed sacred by the explorers who had stumbled upon it centuries before.  The clear round basin, dubbed Sekhmet’s Sun for the almost golden light it seemed to emit during the late afternoon, was a place of purification and cleansing. 

After reassuring his Magisters and council that he would be fine, really, it had just been the wine… they left him to his ritual solitude. 

For several long minutes, Kenma stared at his reflection in the eerily still water.  The image that looked back at him was so clear, he could even see the pink tinge around his eyes from his tears.  Eventually he unclasped his cloak, letting the heavy velvet brocade fall from his shoulders.  Slowly, his limbs moving as if weighted by lead, he unclipped his tasseled epaulettes, unbuckled his silver lion’s belt, and kicked off his ornamental greaves.  With all his trims and embellishments removed, he felt light, almost weightless.  He looked hard at his reflection in the clear pool and muttered to himself,

“Without all that… you don’t look so regal.  What exactly about you is so special?” 

Kenma took up the light changing robe, throwing the cotton over his shoulders before fleeing the cavern.  He was no Ruler.  He wasn’t fit to be one, and he had never once wanted the crown.  All his newfound power had only pushed his one and only friend further and further away.  Running through the deeper caverns of the shrine, deep into its winding passageways, Kenma fled through a secret entrance into the night.

* * *

 

“It’s this way… probably.”

“We just came from that way.”

“No, I’m sure thisss is the way.” 

“If you take us straight back to the room with the bizarre carvings on the walls I’ll—oh.” 

The two uninvited guests came upon the open cavern of Sekhmet’s Sun and marveled.  Even snakes could feel a chill, and they could sense the magic infused into the place.  Ancient and layered… and it deemed them unwelcome. 

“Look at thisss,” the one with black and yellow striped scales on his neck bent down by the pool, poking at the discarded ornaments and cloak. 

“What do you suppose… where’s the Ruler?”  His companion, a taller broader creature whipped his head around him, sniffing the air with his tongue.  “He wasss here… Or someone wasss…”

“Well he’s not here now,” the other shrugged, examining the silver lion’s belt.  “Maybe he evaporated?” 

“That’sss impossible.  In any case, he couldn’t have known we were coming.” 

“I say we wait until—“

“You’re not supposed to be in here!” A voice shouted at them suddenly, and the two snakes hissed low in irritation.  Nothing was quite going as planned.  “Where’s the Ruler?  What have you done?!”

The echoing shouts brought several armed soldiers down on them in an instant, including the raven-clad guardians they had been told to expressly avoid. 

“Ack!  Shhhhit!” 

There was no time or way to plan an escape, their only options were to fight or surrender.  The cobra licked his fangs—he had been commanded to avoid fatalities to avoid sparking an international incident, but…

“Do we fight, Hannah?!” His larger companion shouted, and Hannah rolled his eyes into his head.  What was even the point of aliases and secrecy if his bumbling python partner couldn’t keep his damned mouth shut? 

“Hannah?” Kuroo hissed.  “I know that name.  You’re Daishou’s guardian.  You both are.”  He was growling low in his throat, his claws stretching out slowly. 

The panther guardian was oozing blood-lust, and Hannah brought his hands up instinctively, baring his palms in submission.  Surrender it was then.  They were no match in direct combat with the ruthless killer guardian of Nekoma.  And besides, they hadn’t actually done anything wrong and time would soon enough prove it. 

“Now now… Hannah’s a common name where we’re from,” the cobra smiled, flicking his forked tongue playfully.  “What would Ruler Daishou Suguru’s guardians be doing in a place like this?  We’re just a couple of travelers visiting for the festival, and we got lost in these caverns is all.” 

Taking the hint, his partner raised his own hands into the air, kneeling in tandem with his companion and clamping his jaws shut. 

“Where’s Kenma?”

Kuroo stalked nearer to the talkative one, and before the snake could speak its lies, he backhanded him so hard he went crashing to the floor with a sickening thud.  A splatter of blood stained the floor of the sacred cavern, and the cobra groaned loudly from the pain.  He had little enough patience for snakes and had killed for less.  He didn’t need to hear any of their reasons or excuses, they only needed to answer his one question.

“Hannah!”

“Kuroo!”

The python was kept in his place by the pointed spears of the guards surrounding him, but Lev was pulling Kuroo back. 

“We should take them in for questioning—“

“WHERE’S KENMA?!” Kuroo shook Lev violently off him, nearly throwing the lion to the ground in his rage.  He grabbed the collar of the snake’s shirt, shaking him hard and roaring.

“Kuroo, not here!” Lev’s arms flew around Kuroo’s chest, grasping him as tight as he could and trying to pull him back.  He wasn’t smart, but if these two were in fact Ruler Daishou’s guardians, they couldn’t slaughter them when they offered themselves up for arrest with no resistance.  He knew that much!

The other guards took careful steps back to offer them a wider berth—a lowly foot soldier had no business interfering with the guardians.  And none wanted to be in the path of guardian Kuroo’s wrath. 

“Get off me, Lev—tell me where Kenma is!  What did you bastards do?!”

“Kuroo—STOP!!!” Lev roared, a deep, resounding lion’s roar, one that bubbled up from low in his belly and echoed off the walls of the entire cave system, reaching even the ears of their convoy waiting outside.

The soldiers flinched from the noise, the python’s hands flying immediately to his head, the low vibrations drumming at the bones in his skull. 

It was enough to startle Kuroo out of his frenzy, and he let go of the cobra, panting hard. 

“Take them both into custody,” he growled at the guards, then shoved past Lev and ran out of the caves, tearing his claws into the stone walls in frustration. 

“Kuroo, what’s going on—“ Magister Nekomata demanded. 

“Kenma’s missing,” he answered hurriedly.  “And there are two snakes here from Nohebi… They’re guardians to that scum Daishou, I’d bet my nine lives on it!” 

“Keep your voice down!” Magister Naoi hissed at him.  “What are you talking about?” 

“Kenma’s gone, and all we found were those two slithering about when we went to go get him.  They’ve been apprehended for questioning—“

“And where do you think you’re going?” Nekomata stood in Kuroo’s path. 

“To look for Kenma!” 

“We’ll send out search parties, _you_ need to question the prisoners—“

“Like hell I’m going to stay put here when he could be out there in danger!”  Kuroo’s claws were digging into the flesh of his palms, but he ignored the pain and the blood dripping down from his knuckles.  He should have been more alert—he should have followed Daishou that night to make sure he left the kingdom.  Who were the guards posted to defend the shrine?  Kuroo decided they should all be questioned and flogged for their incompetence.

“Kenma’s prone to running away, remember?” Nekomata calmly replied.  “This could all just be bad timing.” 

“Bad timing?!”

“I can help!” Bokuto stepped forward, his wings whipping open.  “Eyes on the ground and eyes in the air, and my eyes are great!” 

“We couldn’t possibly ask you to help with such matters and leave your Ruler unattended—“ Naoi began, but Akaashi interrupted him.

“I’m surrounded by the royal guard of Nekoma’s high council.  Even Bokuto can rest assured I’d be safe here.  Please, let him assist you.  His eyes are indeed better than most.”

“Very well—“ the words were scarce out of Naoi’s mouth when a sudden rush of wind knocked him back as Bokuto had taken flight, rushing high into the sky. 

“He’ll check back in every hour,” Akaashi assured them.  “I’ve placed a simple tracking enchantment.  Hopefully, it won’t take that long.” 

The guards with Lev filed out of the caverns then, the two snakes bound and gagged and stumbling behind them.  Lev bounded toward Kuroo, Kenma’s cloak clutched between his claws, worry etched all over his young face.  Kuroo felt a pang of guilt cut him—in his rage he had forgotten that his younger guardian depended on him almost as much as Kenma did.  He had not been setting the best example for his protégé and partner.  He knew the poor cub was also worried sick for his liege, but he didn’t lose his head back there, and that was indeed praiseworthy. 

“Lev, we’re going to take them to a nearby detention center for questioning.  You’re with me.” 

“And the search?”

“Nekomata and Naoi are arranging it—even Bokuto’s helping.  They have their jobs.  Now we do ours.”

* * *

 

It wasn’t a pleasant job by any means.  Despite being a guardian, Lev didn’t quite have the stomach for Kuroo’s brand of questioning.    

It wasn’t the blood, it was the screaming. 

“You haven’t even asked me a bloody question!”  The python hissed as Kuroo toyed with the scale he had just ripped from the snake’s neck.  

“Didn’t I?” Kuroo asked with feigned surprise.  “Oh, right.  I asked your partner back at the shrine… I guess you didn’t hear me.”

“I don’t know where he isss!”

“Oh, so you did hear me.” 

“Look, it was just gonna be a bit of fun, all right?”

“What was?” Lev asked.

“Look we—we weren’t gonna do anything bad to him, honest!  We were under orders not to hurt him and everything!”

“Under orders?  Whose orders?” Kuroo pressed, and the python clamped his mouth shut, a nervous furrow growing between his slitted eyes.  “Tch!”

Kuroo clicked his tongue in annoyance and kicked his prisoner hard in the stomach, sending him flying backwards into the detention wall, splintering the chair he was bound to.  The snake groaned and coughed, unable to pull himself to even a crawling position on the floor with his hands still bound behind him.

“We’re done here.  Bring in his friend.”  Kuroo waved to a guard standing nearby and wiped at the blood under his claws with a towel. 

“I think they genuinely don’t know where Kenma is,” Lev whispered quietly.

“I think you may be right, but I want to question little Hannah before we run with that hypothesis.” 

The cobra was brutishly pulled into the room and thrown onto the floor before them, where Kuroo hunched down low to meet him at eye level.  He spun the scale taken from the python between his fingers, watching how the dim light in the room made it glimmer just a touch. 

“I heard in some kingdoms they trade snake-skin bags and boots… all illegal, of course, but I can sort of see the appeal of it…”  Kuroo flicked the scale at Lev, who caught it like a kitten catching a toy.  “What do you think, Lev?”

“It _is_ pretty…”

“Look,” Hannah started, not one to lose his cool like his partner.  “You want the truth?  We came here to give Kenma a message from Daishou.”

“So you _are_ his guardians.” 

“I didn’t say that.”

“My intel tells me that one of his guardians definitely goes by the name of Hannah.” 

“Hannah can just mean cobra.  It’s more commonly a nickname.  In any case, he sent us to deliver a message, that was all—”

“What sort of message can’t be delivered by traditional means?  Why not send diplomatic envoys?  Why send two, lowlife, slithering scum to sneak up on our Ruler while he’s alone and vulnerable?” Kuroo spat.

“You’ve met Daishou, yesss?  He’s a flirt and a sssadist.  He’s quite taken with your little lord, so he sent us to tell him as much.”  A lecherous grin spread across the cobra’s features, and Kuroo swiped his claws across the offensive face, tearing rivets of blood across it.  If Hannah hadn’t closed his eyes, they’d have no doubt been lost. 

“I’m telling you the truth, it’s what you asked!” the cobra hissed, writhing and hissing at the stinging pain across his face.  “It doesn’t even matter now what we were ordered to do, he wasn’t there!”

“What do you mean by that?” Lev insisted. 

“We waited by the Shrine until the convoy arrived, snuck in around the guards, but we got lossst!  Those caves looped around and around in circles, and eventually we found his clothes, they were lying in a heap by the pool, but he wasn’t there—he was nowhere in sssight!” 

Kuroo listened in calm silence as the cobra hissed and spat, groaning against his bonds and clenching his eyes shut as the blood trickled slowly down his face.  The cuts were shallow enough, Kuroo was sure they’d be gone completely after the next couple of times the cobra molted.  For now though, he’d be in plenty pain, and the wounds would be undoubtedly annoying as they scabbed over. 

“Lev, take care of things here.” 

“Where are you going, Kuroo?”

“I’m going to go look for Kenma.  Tell the Magisters I snuck off so they don’t blame you for it.”

“Do you know where to look?!” Lev grabbed Kuroo’s wrist. 

“I have an idea where to start.” 

“Let me go with you!  I’m his guardian too!”  The young lion pleaded, growing more agitated the more he was ignored.

“I know.  But this was my fault.  And I have to take care of it.  Feel our bond, Lev.  Reach out to him.  You know Kenma’s not hurt.”

“…he’s not hurt.”  Lev repeated meekly, his grip loosening on Kuroo’s wrist. 

“I’ll bring him back.”  Kuroo promised. 

Then he quietly left the detention center through a back exit and sprinted back toward the palace using back roads and forested paths less traveled on—the same roads they had frequented as kittens, when Kenma used to follow Kuroo along by a soft grip on his tail so as to not get lost.  Back when they were free to do whatever they wanted and all the world belonged to just them two.  Nekomata had been right all along.  Kenma ran away all the time; being made royalty didn’t change that. 

Kuroo traced back familiar steps through the quiet market where they used to bring their royal allowance (aka change they pickpocketed out of Nekomata’s trousers) to buy apple tarts from that one baker who always gave Kenma a bigger slice than customary.  That old bakery was closed now, the old tomcat had long since passed away and a little café had popped up in its place.  Kuroo peeked inside as he passed by, just to be sure, but he knew Kenma wasn’t in there. 

From the back alleys by Bonfamille Fountain square, Kuroo ran past the river where they used to spend long, hot afternoons sunbathing on its banks.  Kuroo used to try and catch the few fish that came upstream, splashing Kenma with his failed attempts in the water.  Kenma wasn’t here either, of course—he used to hate getting wet, hated how the humidity would fluff up his tail and his hair into an unmanageable wavy mess.  The guardian continued on.

Eventually, he came to the high brick walls that made up the perimeter of the palace apple orchard, and with a nimble leap, climbed up to the top before jumping over amongst the trees.  When he was smaller, it seemed to him then that the rows of trees would go for miles and miles; they’d run through the columns, weaving in and out of them, circling around the trunks of the bigger ones and eating all the apples that fell out of the trees the pickers wouldn’t want.  Kuroo always gave the biggest and nicest ones he found to Kenma.  Now, he was tall enough to pick one out of the lowest branches just by reaching up with his hand.  He picked a nice big juicy one, its skin bright red with a hint of golden yellow around the stem. 

A little further on, towards the south end of the palace and near the entrance to the gardens, he found Kenma sitting by the big tree with his knees drawn up to his chest, his white robe filthy and grass-stained, bits of leaves in his hair.  He looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes and sniffed.  Thank goodness he was safe.

“For you,” Kuroo offered, holding out the apple.  When Kenma took it wordlessly, Kuroo lowered himself onto the grass beside him, grunting as he had to adjust his tail around the pokey bits of his armor. 

“You found me.” Kenma murmured, cradling the apple in his hands.

“I knew where to look,” Kuroo sighed, leaning against the tree trunk.  “This used to be our favorite place.” 

Kenma took a small bite of the apple in his hand.  It was good.  Ripe and juicy and sweet in his mouth.  Kuroo always picked the best ones somehow. 

“You ran away again.” 

“If being Ruler means you can’t treat me how you used to, I don’t want it.  I never _wanted_ it.  But you said you’d stay with me, so I agreed but…” Kenma hiccupped, tears welling up in his eyes again.  “But now…”

Kuroo turned toward Kenma and wiped the tears that fell down his cheek.  Kenma dropped the apple, holding onto Kuroo’s hands instead, and quietly sobbed.

“I can’t do this without you.  I’m scared, I don’t know how to be a great Ruler… how am I supposed to know what to do?”

“Kenma, that’s why you have a Council—no Ruler ever reigns alone.  And you have me too—“

“No I don’t,” Kenma huffed.  “You—“

“I love you,” Kuroo interrupted, breathless, grasping Kenma’s hands in his own.  “I do.  So much.  For so long, but what can I do?  You’re the highest being in the land, and I’m just a guardian.”

“Kuro—“

“My life is yours, my body, my soul, I’m pledged to you.  But it can’t go the other way around, you see?  I might belong to you, but you belong to the kingdom.”

Kenma had to look beyond his own pain to see Kuroo’s, a loneliness that had previously been obscured to him.  But he saw now how long his dear guardian’s weary heart had suffered—maybe even longer than his own.  He said it so plainly now, and it was written all over his face, how could Kenma have ever doubted his affections? 

“We’re bonded as _Ruler_ and _Guardian_ …” Kuroo whispered helplessly, the titles leaving a foul taste on his tongue. 

“We were bonded before that,” Kenma replied quietly, taking Kuroo’s face gently in his hands.  “My pain is yours, but yours is also mine, it always has been.” 

“Kenma…”

Kenma took one of his hands and pressed it to Kuroo’s chest, his fingers touching the window of skin there, and said,

“See?  I can feel your heartbreak.  You can probably feel mine too, right?” 

Kuroo closed his eyes and nodded slowly, a small smile creeping to his lips.  He repeated Kenma’s words back to him with a chuckle.

“That’s not how the connection works, remember?” 

“Please don’t turn me away because of my crown.  Or if that’s all it is, then let’s both run away—I won’t have to be Ruler anymore and then you won’t have to feel bad about it.” 

Kuroo let out a throaty chuckle, sniffed, then smiled. 

“We can’t do that, Kenma.  You’re a good Ruler, I told you before.  Nekoma needs you.” 

“But I need you.” 

“You have me,” Kuroo whispered, kissing Kenma’s cheek as a promise.  “You’ve always had me.” 

Kenma tentatively pressed their lips together again, testing.  When Kuroo didn’t pull away, he did it again.  And again.  And then he flung his arms around his neck and kissed him long and deep, pulling away only momentarily to whisper,

“I can really have you then?” 

“I just said—“

But suddenly the trees were rustling violently above them, and Kenma pulled back to see a dark figure falling out of the sky towards them, massive silvery wings beating strongly into the wind and scattering the leaves all around them. 

“My lord Kenma!  I found you!!  We’ve been—oh, Kuroo… um… found you too?” 

“Your timing is fantastic,” Kuroo muttered under his breath, but Bokuto missed the sarcasm where Kenma giggled at it. 

“Everyone will be so relieved to know you’re okay!  I didn’t realize Kuroo had gone looking for you too though…  I thought you were questioning—”

“All is well,” Kenma said with a smile, his heart lighter than it had been his entire reign.  “Let’s rejoin the others, and… I know it’s late, but…”

“You’ll finish the ceremony?” Kuroo asked, incredulously. 

“…I learned the dance, after all.  After being made to learn it, it’d be a waste to not perform it.” 

“All riiiight!” Bokuto cackled.  “Hop on!”

“Hold on!” Kuroo held up his hand immediately.  “Kenma is _not_ going to fly the way there.” 

“It’s perfectly safe!” Bokuto retorted, crossing his arms.  “I’ve only ever dropped… um…?”

“No!  Absolutely not!” 

* * *

 

On a raised platform above the waters in Bastet Bay, the scenery shimmering with fairy lights twinkling off the ripples in the water, a vision danced to the melody of soft strings.  The citizens of Nekoma stood in awe by the shore, entranced by the vision of their young Ruler swaying in the cool evening breeze.

“He’s as beautiful as they say…”

“And so elegant!”

“It’s almost like magic… Like he’s bewitching us.”

Kuroo watched Kenma dance and almost forgot to breathe.  He’d seen Kenma in rehearsals dozens of times to learn the routine.  His liege had learned the basic steps early on, it was only that his dance instructor from then on had wanted him to dance it to perfection since he had the potential to do so.  Kuroo had wondered about previous Rulers who came to the throne later in life.  He tried to imagine someone like Nekomata being made to do this choreography at his age and gave thanks to the high heavens that he was blessed to watch Kenma dance it instead. 

And Kenma really was a marvel.  There was a lightness to his steps Kuroo had never seen before tonight, a fluidness to his motions that reminded him of flowing water.  Once or twice, he thought he caught Kenma’s eyes from across the water and the piercing gaze stopped his heart for several seconds—he was so unbelievably beautiful. 

When it was over there was a palpable disappointment in the air even as people clapped and cheered—they all wanted the enchantment to continue forever, but before they could dwell on it too long, the sky lit up with bright fireworks and the music struck up again, louder and more powerful than before. 

“How did I do?” Kenma asked breathlessly after descending from the stage.  His eyes were bright and shining and looked only at Kuroo.   

“You were—“ Kuroo started, but was interrupted by everyone all at once.

“You were perfect!” Lev gushed, clinging to Kuroo’s arm.  “Absolutely fantastic!” 

“It was truly a sight to see,” Akaashi added.  “I feel quite lucky to have been witness to it.”

“Brilliant, my lord,” Magister Naoi added.  “It was like nothing else I’ve seen.”

The din of the fireworks made all their praises sound together, especially as they fought to talk all at the same time or interrupt one another.  Aiming for a modicum of peace, they moved away from the shore, leaving the citizens to dance and cheer at the fireworks through the night.  For his part, Kenma was ready to return to the palace and fall immediately into his bed.  The day had been long and exhausting—and he hadn’t had to deal with his attempted kidnapping like the others had. 

“All in all, I’d say that was a rather successful festival,” Magister Naoi smiled.  “Even with the… uh… not-kidnapping.” 

“What are we to do about them, by the way?” Lev asked.  “They said they were under orders from Daishou… this doesn’t mean war does it?”

“That’s a conversation better saved for the Council, Lev,” Magister Nekomata grumbled.  The old cat was extremely displeased with that situation—he had been the one to extend the invitation to Daishou in good faith.  “Those treacherous snakes…”

“I don’t know that it could go to war… Daishou would never admit to sending them, and it’s their word against his.” Naoi considered. 

“We can throw them in the dungeons and let them rot for all he cares,” Kuroo growled.  “They were never supposed to be caught.  If Daishou cares about their release, it brings him under suspicion.  And this way, at least those two are kept under lock and key.” 

“You still think they’re his guardians?” Nekomata asked.

“Not sure.  But if they are, then Daishou got a good taste of what I’ll do when I get my claws on him.” Kuroo grinned, licking his fangs.  It had pleased him greatly to think their captives could indeed be the guardian’s to Nohebi’s Ruler—it meant the bastard could feel every ounce of the pain Kuroo had inflicted upon the prisoners.

“Kuroo’s right, they were never supposed to be caught,” Kenma added at last, silencing all the others.  “I don’t think even he would risk his guardians on such a frivolous plot… But Daishou is not merciful to those who fail him.  He’ll be forced to punish them to honor the diplomatic peace between us or appear a scoundrel, and their sentence will be all the harsher if the command was indeed originally his.  Sending them back publically is tantamount to a death sentence either way.  Let them suffer the justice of their own land, and let Daishou suffer the rumors that are sure to follow him now.” 

“You mean—“

“We’ll draw up the official extradition order in the morning.  Tonight…”

The convoy sat in silence a while, shocked by the firmness with which Kenma spoke his commands and the wisdom his words beheld.  It was the last thing anyone expected given his usual evasions of responsibility and his earlier stunt of the evening.  But they were no doubt the words of a king.

“Your will be done, _O Ruler_.” Magister Nekomata said with a genial smile.  Kuroo could almost call it proud. 

“Spoken justly and with wisdom, my lord.” Magister Naoi bowed low. 

Whatever doubts his council may have nursed before that night, they were instantly dissipated in the wake of Kenma’s firm royal decrees—here at last would be a strong and prosperous reign for their kingdom. 

Yet still, Kenma looked to Kuroo and only allowed himself a smile when he saw his guardian nod his head with a proud upturn of his lips, mouthing silently, ‘ _Good job.’_   Kenma replied with a small grin of his own, his mouth quietly forming the words, ‘ _Thank you.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prionailurus viverrinus is a cat breed commonly known as the fishing cat, so the fisher-cats by trade are called Viverrini.  
> Bastet Bay is named after the Egyptian cat goddess Bastet, and Bast’s hill is just an alternative name for the same deity.  
> Sekhmet Shrine is named after the Egyptian lioness goddess.  
> A group of cats is called a 'glaring' or a 'clowder.' So the administrative council meetings between the Ruler and his royal council are referred to as a 'glaring.' I also couldn’t write 'clowder' with a straight face.  
> Wikipedia also tells me that female cats are called queens, but I thought that might get a bit confusing since the story contains actual royalty.  
> Marie, Berlioz, and Toulouse are the tourist districts of Nekoma for shopping, music & entertainment, and restaurants respectively. They’re named after the 3 kittens from the Aristocats movie.  
> The Lion King movie is basically Hamlet, and the full title of Hamlet is “The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark” so I just switched the names to be about lions. Are you tired of the cat jokes yet?  
> Ophiophagus hannah is the scientific name for a King Cobra.
> 
> I was very excited to be allowed to write a story for mookie's beautiful artwork, and it was an interesting challenge for me to try and write for a universe that wasn't already all in my head. I'm sure she grew at least a little tired of all my questions, but she was nothing but patient with me and gracious enough to read my drafts. If you haven't already seen her art (which seems impossible honestly), go go go!!! I hope I did it even a little justice.
> 
> mookie000.tumblr.com
> 
> As for me, I'm on tumblr @nimbus-cloud and on Twitter @Luna_Dreaming and I love love love talking about Haikyuu and Kuroken.


	2. Slowly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically a PWP chapter. Kitty Kuroken smut! Background YakuLev if you squint.

Kenma mewled softly as Kuroo’s fingers gently trailed up the soft skin of his thigh, drawing a fevered response from his flesh.  He lifted his leg and wrapped it around his guardian, bringing their bodies closer together and demanding a kiss.  He licked and nibbled at Kuroo’s lips, panting feverishly as Kuroo unclasped his belts and pulled open his robes. 

_More…_

The little lord clawed desperately at the buckles and clasps of Kuroo’s armor, too distracted by the soft, wet tongue trailing up his neck to get more than the shoulder pauldrons half-undone.  When Kuroo bit down gently at the nape of his neck, Kenma let out a loud moan, grinding their hips together—

“—all right?”

“Hm?” Kenma’s mind snapped out of its reverie, and the sight of a half-naked Kuroo dissolved from his field of view, replaced by the dull drapes of the council room chamber, his Magisters and advisors all staring curiously at him. 

“Are you all right?  You sounded a bit as if you were in pain,” Magister Naoi asked again with furrowed brows, ears twitching. 

 _Shit._ Too caught up in his daytime fantasies, he had moaned aloud in the middle of Naoi’s economics report, the content of which he had absolutely no memory now.  Since he had been decidedly _not_ paying attention. 

“Uhh…” Kenma stammered, his eyes meeting Kuroo across the chamber.  His guardian shared the magister’s looks of concern. 

 _As well he should be concerned, this was his fault!_ Kenma thought, pouting. 

With a sigh, he brought a hand to his head, closing his eyes with a feigned grimace.

“My head feels a bit… unwell.”  Which wasn’t a total lie… “Could we perhaps…?”

“Well, we were near the end anyhow,” Magister Nekomata shrugged, shuffling a few of the papers on the long table.  “And none of the rest is urgent business.  Motion to adjourn?”

“Seconded,” Kenma said softly, rising from the table.  “Thank you for your hard work, as always.” 

“Get some rest, my lord.” Nekomata patted Kenma’s shoulder with a smile as the rest of the council rose from their seats and took their leave.  “You’ll need your strength for your journey soon.” 

“Yes… absolutely,” Kenma murmured with a nod.  “I will.” 

Within a fortnight, Kenma would be journeying to Fukurodani to meet with Ruler Akaashi on certain matters of state, though the trip was primarily for Kenma’s personal combat training.  Before he was to take such a lengthy absence however, Kenma and his council had much to do and more… yet here was Nekoma’s ruler distracted from his most basic duties by rampant lewd thoughts concerning his guardian and lover. 

He was sure now that he was simply just frustrated.  Ever since his inauguration celebrations, he and Kuroo had done little more than kiss.  Innocently, bashfully… of course, affectionately, but… Kuroo was still being cautious, and Kenma very much wanted more.  He clicked his tongue in annoyance at the inappropriate heat between his legs.  A _lot_ more.  And it was clear that if he was going to get it, he would simply have to take charge of the situation because it was becoming more and more obvious that Kuroo would not make the first move. 

Once again bringing his hand to his head, Kenma made a show of wobbling over to Kuroo, leaning his weight heavily into the guardian’s arms. 

“Kuro, take me back to my room…” he moaned, adding a hint of a whine and batting his eyelashes. 

“Lev, take Kenma,” Kuroo urged his partner, his genuine concern making him obscenely blind to Kenma’s antics.  “I’ll call for the doctor—“

“No!” Kenma shouted, a little too suddenly.  “I mean… it’s not _that_ bad, I just need to lay down.”  He leaned more of his weight onto Kuroo as Lev offered an arm to assist him. 

“I can go down to the kitchens, maybe have them make you something soothing?” Lev suggested, noting the way Kenma pulled away from him. 

“Um…” Kenma’s conniving little mind ran through the possibilities.  “Soup,” he suggested after a little more thought.  “Lev, if you could ask them to make me a light soup.”

“Of course!”

“And then… um… why don’t you take the day off to yourself?” Kenma added hastily.  “Kuro can look after me.  Haven’t you been wanting to see General Yaku lately?”

“Is that… I mean, if you’re sure you wouldn’t need me…” Lev fidgeted with his claws, trying not to appear too hopeful.  Of course his duty was to his lord first and foremost, but responsibility had not robbed the young cub of his desires to have fun and seek companionship for himself. 

“I’ll be fine,” Kenma assured him with a smile.  “Go enjoy yourself.”

Kuroo watched Lev scamper off giddily with a raised eyebrow before turning toward Kenma with crossed arms. 

“You’re not feeling sick at all, are you?”

“Sure I am,” Kenma huffed, flicking his tail with irritation before taking Kuroo’s arm.  _Sick of waiting on you._ “Now take me to my chambers.” 

Kuroo jumped as Kenma’s tail wrapped around his own, his lord sidling close to his side and looking at him with an intensely… voracious stare.  The guardian swallowed hard, biting his lip before leading them out of the Council Room and toward the northern wing of the palace, to Kenma’s royal bedchambers. 

* * *

 

General Yaku was not a cat easily riled… which was to say that he was absolutely easy to rile (off the field of battle).  And no one did it better than Haiba Lev, his former protégé, now-guardian, and all around pain-in-the-tail.  Ever since the young cub had been chosen to become a royal guardian, the General had found his days blessed with peace and serenity… and it was quite frankly, more than a little dull.  His lieutenant Kai was pleasant company enough, but there were times when he considered maybe taking on another student.  His fellow officers laughed that perhaps his paternal instincts were setting in, and it was high time for him to stop being a tomcat and be bold enough to approach Lady Alisa.  But getting married and having kittens was vastly different from simply taking on another student… and yet, she was undeniably the most beautiful molly he’d ever seen. 

Yaku imagined her flowing silver hair and her bright green eyes, her face graced with a smile as dazzling as the sun, perhaps greeting him with a demure,

“GENERAL YAKUUUUUUU!!!”

_Wait._

The general opened his eyes to see the younger Haiba sibling dashing toward him at full speed from across the royal courtyard, an almost manic look in his eyes. 

_For the love of—_

“Don’t run across the grass, you imbecile!” 

Of course.  He should have known better.  If ever he felt the desire to take on another student, he just needed to remind himself of the horror Lev had been.

“You’re a _guardian_ , not a trainee!”  The General clicked his tongue in annoyance, crossing his arms.  He would’ve smacked Lev too for good measure if the cub didn’t technically out-rank him now. 

“Sorry, sorry…” Lev’s ears bent forward in shame, but his tail was clearly swaying with excitement. 

“What are you doing here anyway?  Shouldn’t you be with—“

“Kenma’s—my lord… He’s not feeling well today.  He’s taking time for some bedrest and Kuroo’s taking care of him, so I’ve been given the rest of my day off too!  And I thought to myself… I want to go see the General…  So I came and found you!”

Thank goodness his ears were naturally folded and couldn’t give evidence to his embarrassment.  Yaku coughed and looked away, unfolding his arms and placing his hands on his hips.

“Even if he gave you leave to go, don’t you think you should have stayed?  Kuroo always stays beside him no matter what, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah, but…” Yaku sighed, kicking at the ground with his paws.  “Their relationship is different… They’ve known each other longer and they’re a lot closer… A lot of times I don’t think Kenma even needs two guardians—I just feel like a third wheel most of the time.”

“That’s a selfish thing to say, Lev.” Yaku chided, though his tone was gentler.  “It’s not about you, it’s about our liege.  You didn’t become a guardian to be chummy with him, your first duty is to protect him.”

“I know…” Lev sighed, ears drooping.  “I just feel a bit useless sometimes is all.  Kuroo is much better at everything—he’s stronger, he knows Kenma better… There’s no way I can be the best guardian.”

“The Guardians are meant to be equal, not competing.  And of course Kuroo is better than you; he has years more experience being a soldier.” Yaku’s words were harsh, but his tone was soft, and he reached up— _way_ up—to scratch Lev behind the ears. 

Lev began purring immediately, leaning down into Yaku’s hands to enjoy the petting a while.  The general so rarely showed any signs of affection, he wanted to get as much of the attention as possible. 

“I’m still _your_ best student, right, General?”

“Does that matter to you?” Yaku was taken aback.  Compared to serving as a guardian to the lord of Nekoma, being the General’s favored student seemed such a paltry achievement.  Haiba Lev was a household name, Yaku Morisuke was not. 

“It matters,” Lev muttered, bowing his head.  “Believe me, it _really_ matters.” 

* * *

 

“Say, ‘ahhhh,’” Kuroo teased, holding out a spoonful of warm soup as Kenma pursed his lips and turned his head away. 

“I don’t want it,” Kenma pouted impatiently.

“You’re the one who asked Lev to put in the request to the kitchens.” 

“Just to give him something to do,” Kenma slouched into his pillows, pulling the blankets up to his chin.  “He gets so antsy when he’s not being useful.” 

“At least you can’t say he’s not dedicated to you,” Kuroo shrugged, setting the bowl and spoon gently down on the rolling tray.  “He was worried sick about you when you ran away during your coronation anniversary.”

“From what I heard, _you_ were considerably worse.”  Kenma teased with a grin.

“ _That_ time, there were extenuating circumstances!” Kuroo bristled.

“I sometimes think about dismissing him…” Kenma mumbled.  “That way he could be free to enjoy his life better… and not be bound to a selfish ruler like me…”

“Akaashi has only one guardian, and I think that in and of itself should serve as a cautionary tale.”  Kuroo replied with a raised brow.  Confident though he was in his own abilities, it eased his mind greatly to know he wasn’t alone in the great task of keeping Kenma safe. 

“That’s why you want me to combat-trained like he is.”

“A warrior-ruler isn’t an awful example to follow,” Kuroo shrugged.  “And you have more than just combat you can learn from Lord Akaashi.” 

“…he’s sleeping with his guardian.”  Kenma stated plainly, eyeing Kuroo’s face carefully.  “I guess he and I have _that_ in common.” 

Kuroo’s lips were drawn tight, his tail flicking nervously behind him.  Kenma thought he saw a hint of pink tinging Kuroo’s cheeks before he opened his mouth to speak.  But Kenma interrupted him before he could get a single word out.

“Oh wait… Except… we haven’t actually…” he drawled, pushing the blankets slowly off him, kicking them lazily to the side. 

“Well if you’re not going to have the soup, I’ll let you rest—“ the guardian began to rise but was stopped by a gentle grip on his arm.

“Kuro.”

Kuroo froze the instant Kenma said his name.  It wasn’t often that Kenma took on the commanding tone of a liege, but when he did, Kuroo was always completely at his mercy.  His dark eyes met Kenma’s amber ones, so piercing and hypnotizing…

Kenma leaned forward to narrow the distance between them, stopping inches away from Kuroo’s lips; a silent invitation.  Also a challenge.

Kuroo closed the distance without further question, pressing his lips into Kenma’s with a moan, his hands wrapping immediately around his waist.  Kenma nibbled and licked at his lips, arms wrapped around his neck and pulling on him insistently.  His little lord was making it extremely difficult to keep his head straight—every kiss sent him into a tizzy, his heart thumping hard.  No matter how many kisses they shared, Kuroo found himself breathless every time; it was overwhelming, threatened loss of control… the guardian pulled their lips apart, panting heavily, and pressed their foreheads together. 

“Ha… Kenma…”

But Kenma’s fingers were busy at work, unbuckling Kuroo’s belt and tossing it aside, moving next to unzip Kuroo’s tabard. 

“Kenma, wait—“

Kuroo’s strong hands wrapped around his own, stilling his progress, and Kenma frowned, struggling a little against the grip before meeting his lover’s eyes. 

“You don’t want to?” It was almost an accusation.

“N-no… I mean, yes.  Yes, I want to.  It’s just…” Kuroo squeezed his eyes shut.  “I’m…”

“You said I could have all of you.” 

“I know… Just…”

Kuroo sighed, and for a moment Kenma feared he’d push him away and leave, make some excuse and distance himself… as if he had to draw the line at kissing and nothing further because of his status.  But after a few agonizing seconds, Kuroo only drew him closer, taking his lips again in a long, loving kiss before whispering,

“Let’s take it slow.”

_Oh, was that all?_

Kenma could do slow.  Even if he was feeling a little impatient, he could make himself soften the pace for Kuroo’s sake.  Pulling away from his guardian, away from his touch, Kenma drew himself up onto his knees on the bed, running his hands from his thighs up to his chest, into his hair… His hips swayed faintly from side to side, his eyes firmly locked on Kuroo’s, both pairs smoldering with desire.  With a flick of his fingers, Kenma undid the belt that held his tabard in place, and let the fabric and the braided rope fall off his bed.  He smiled as Kuroo licked his lips and began to rub at himself, groaning as Kenma arched his back and raised his arms over his head. 

“No touching,” Kenma commanded as he rolled his hips in a circle, unclasping the furred collar at his neck.  “You said slow.” 

Biting on his lip, Kuroo obeyed silently, bringing his hands to his sides, and twisting his claws into the sheets. 

Kenma leaned back against the headboard to pull at one of the thigh-high spats he was wearing, sliding the silky fabric inch by inch down the length of his creamy skin.  And with every new bit of skin he revealed, he could see a pressure building within Kuroo, who was already so visibly hard it looked almost painful.  When Kenma finally flicked off one spat off his paw, Kuroo gave an audible groan and pulled on the sheets he held clenched between his fingers.  Kenma thought he might have heard the sound of a little fabric ripping. 

Instead of moving to the other spat, he reached out with his bare leg, pressing his paw lightly against the hardness in Kuroo’s suit, a little surprised at how warm it felt even through the fabric.  Kuroo gasped helplessly and thrust his hips forward into the touch, wanting more pressure, more heat.  The fabric around his length began to grow damp with pre-cum, and Kenma felt the moisture against the skin of his paw.  He moaned in time with Kuroo, feeling his own arousal building—they had barely even touched! 

Before they could get too distracted, Kenma pulled his foot away, leaving Kuroo humping at empty air and groaning in frustration, though he never voiced a word of complaint.  Like an obedient soldier.  Though of course the common soldier would never in a million years be treated to the sight of their liege lord lewdly swaying his body, lips parted and flushed with need… A royal private dance that only Kuroo would ever be privy to.  What would the Magisters think if they could see their Lord in his current state, panting and touching his body like a sex kitten?  Kuroo bit down hard on his lip as Kenma unzipped his bodysuit with agonizing indifference, shrugging off the fabric from his shoulders and letting his long, fluffy tail run over the bared skin of his chest. 

It was incredible.  Kuroo had seen Kenma’s naked body before… they used to bathe together as kittens, he’d seen him in midsummer’s heat, sweat-slicked and half bare… but this was so different, Kuroo feared his eyes might pop out of his head.  He had been the one to insist on going slow, sure… but he could never have imagined Kenma would interpret that in this way. 

“Kenma…” Kuroo whispered, his voice strained. 

Kenma ignored him, sliding the fabric smoothly off his bottom, his tail flicking free and brushing against Kuroo’s neck.  Save for one thigh-high spat and a braided band on his arm, Kenma was now completely exposed, his pink cock dripping small white beads as he continued to gyrate and roll his body.  He wondered if he could cum just from this… just from the heat of Kuroo’s gaze upon him as he shamelessly flaunted himself.  But that might feel a bit anticlimactic.

“Off,” Kenma whispered, pointing to Kuroo’s chest with a long, thin finger.  “Everything.  Off.” 

“Fast or slow?” Kuroo grinned, feeling zero confidence in his ability to perform a dance as Kenma had.  But if his lord commanded, he would try his utmost. 

“Off.” Kenma repeated impatiently, his ears twitching with irritation. 

With a chuckle that hid his embarrassment, Kuroo scrambled off the bed to pull off his remaining armor, letting it clang and clatter to the floor in his hurry, though he paused here and there to pose with a hand on his hip and a cock of his head.  He was pleased to see the pink flush on Kenma’s cheeks grow darker, his body almost teeming with anticipation. 

After a little bit of fuss with the zipper on Kuroo’s suit, he stood before Kenma as naked as the day he was born… though with a noticeable extra excitement. 

“My lord,” Kuroo teased softly, giving a little bow at his waist. 

Kenma let the title slide, crawling to the edge of his bed and letting his eyes roam all over Kuroo’s magnificent form.  He shook his head, biting his lip softly. 

“ _My_ lord…” he murmured, eyeing Kuroo’s cock hungrily.  It gave a twitch of embarrassment and Kenma licked his hips, beckoning Kuroo closer to him with a curl of his finger. 

When he brought his hands to Kuroo’s hips and leaned his head forward for his treat, a pair of strong hands on his shoulders held him still, pushing him away from his prize.  Kenma frowned and looked up to see Kuroo stammering nervously.

“Should you really… I mean… I should probably—“

“You think because I’m your lord, I shouldn’t suck your cock?”

Kenma’s profanity was surprisingly effective at bursting more capillaries in Kuroo’s cheeks—he was as red as a beet now.  

“Well…”

Kenma grabbed Kuroo’s wrist, pulling impatiently until they were both sitting on the bed. 

“In this room, on this bed, we’re equals,” Kenma reiterated, his hands holding Kuroo’s face and gently rubbing at the guardian’s temples with his thumbs.  “Not ruler and guardian, just you and me.”

“You and me,” Kuroo repeated the words like a prayer. 

“Look at me, Kuro,” Kenma whispered, pulling away and laying his hands on his chest, his tail swaying tantalizingly behind him.  “Don’t you want me?”

“By the stars, Kenma, I want you so much—“

Kuroo leaned forward and pressed his lips to Kenma’s eagerly, nibbling and suckling on Kenma’s soft, swollen lips and pressing their bare chests together.  It was wonderful, the mutual warmth of their flesh melding together, stoking a little flame into a blazing bonfire.  When he felt Kenma’s fingers press into his shoulders pushing him back then down onto the bed, Kuroo followed their lead, lying down with a soft _thump_.  His eyes never left Kenma’s as the little lord straddled his hips, laying his hands on his chest before rolling his body—the heat of their lengths pressed together and they both moaned aloud, Kuroo practically growling low in his throat.  Kenma did it again, and Kuroo’s hands flew to Kenma’s waist, gripping tight.  He thrust his own hips upward and Kenma gave a delightful little gasp of pleasure at the friction. 

“S-slow…” Kenma rasped, it seemed he was the one getting overwhelmed now. 

Kenma lifted himself up and Kuroo groaned at the loss of heat against his erection but gasped and gave an altogether different groan when he felt Kenma’s tongue slide up the length of it from base to tip. 

“Ah… agh… Ken—“

He’d never heard Kuroo make sounds like that before.  He very much wanted to hear more where that came from.  He slid his tongue slowly up the length of his erection again, this time suckling lightly on the tip and watched with fascination as Kuroo’s chest heaved up and down with short, shallow breaths, his lips quivering.  And the sounds… He was almost purring, almost growling… his breaths were short and uneven, his voice unable to decide between a low moan or a high keen—overwhelmed by sensation, his body had no idea what to do.  It only knew that it wanted more…

Kenma took Kuroo’s length in his mouth, taking it inch by inch.  When he felt the tip of it touch the back of his throat, he half-growled that there was still more left to swallow, and the vibrations of his throat made Kuroo cry out, throwing his head back into the sheets and using all of his self-control to keep his hips still. 

“Hnngh… Hah.. hah…”

Pulling his head slowly back, Kenma waited until he had just the tip of flesh between his lips before he plunged his head back down, taking Kuroo’s cock a little bit further this time, testing his own limits and Kuroo’s.  From the looks of it, Kuroo was tiptoeing that line.  It was then that Kenma noticed the rivets of torn fabric in the sheets of his bed from where Kuroo had clawed them in his ecstasy, and he let Kuroo’s cock slip from his mouth with a pop.

“Kuro… you’re ruining the sheets.”

“Hah… Not… my fault.”  Kuroo panted, smirking at Kenma’s pout. 

“What am I supposed to tell the maids?”

“Nothing.  It’s not their place to ask.” Kuroo shrugged, using the opportunity to sit up and lean forward, pressing a kiss to Kenma’s forehead.  “My turn?”

Kenma pouted, but leaned back and lay himself down against his pillows, reaching up with his arms and scrummaging around in his pillow-case to pull out a small bottle of—

“Where did you even get that?” Kuroo was with Kenma at all waking hours, he could not recall a time Kenma could have spared to obtain such a… questionable item. 

“I asked one of the maids to get it for me.”  Kenma shrugged.

“You didn’t—“

“Don’t worry, I told them _exactly_ what it was for.” Kenma smirked as Kuroo sputtered.

“Weren’t we supposed to keep this secret?”

“From the Magisters,” Kenma clarified.  “The maids never talk to them anyway.”

“But they whisper and they gossip—“

“I’ve had this for weeks and I haven’t heard a single rumor circulating, so are we doing this or not?” Kenma snapped, shoving the bottle into Kuroo’s hand and falling back down onto the bed. 

“…weeks?” Kuroo repeated, an eyebrow slowly raising. 

“Ever since the ceremony,” Kenma admitted, ears folding back and a furious blush rising to his cheeks.

“Well, aren’t we eager?” Kuroo teased, laying an apologetic kiss immediately on Kenma’s forehead before pouring out the thick liquid onto his fingers, retracting his claws as best he could.  “Slowly, right?”

“Your words, not mine.” Kenma pouted, and Kuroo laughed.

“Right, right.”

Laying a tender kiss on Kenma’s hip bone, Kuroo pressed one questioning finger to Kenma’s entrance.  Almost immediately, Kenma’s tail twitched and whipped about in agitation, swatting at Kuroo’s arm lightly.  But his lord moaned and spread his legs further open, and Kuroo slowly pushed in to the knuckle.  Kenma’s entire body was tense, his ears drawn back, he was gnawing on his lip.

“Does it hurt?” Kuroo cooed, using his free hand to lift one of Kenma’s legs over his shoulder, massaging the underside of his thigh.  They were bonded, he knew Kenma wasn’t in any serious pain, but…

“It doesn’t hurt,” Kenma hissed.  “It’s just… weird.” 

Purring into Kenma’s hips, Kuroo pushed his finger in all the way, twisting it experimentally and loving the way Kenma’s voice grew into a high whine.  It was new, it was sexy.  Kuroo pulled his finger in and out slowly, always stopping the instant he thought Kenma might be spasming in pain, but soon enough, Kenma was pushing against his hand, eager to be stretched further. 

Obliging his lord’s request, Kuroo pushed in a second finger, almost all at once, as he took Kenma’s length into his mouth to encourage it. 

“Ah!  Ahhhnn… K-Kuro…”

Whatever discomfort Kenma might have felt from the continuation was instantly dissolved by the feeling of Kuroo’s warm tongue surrounding him, swallowing him… he whimpered into the back of his hand, his body swimming with sensation, his mind trying to figure out which pleasure was greater: the pressure inside him, filling him?  Or the hot wetness around his cock that seemed to want to suck him dry?  When he no longer felt the slight stinging of his flesh around Kuroo’s fingers, he urged the guardian for more, pressing his hips down into Kuroo’s hand and breathing faster. 

“M-more… Kuro… Please…”

“As you wish…”

Kuroo pressed in a third and it slid in almost effortlessly, Kenma’s body almost completely relaxed in receiving him, minus the waves of pleasure that racked his body when Kuroo would brush against the sweet spot inside him that—

“Ahh!!!” 

Kenma’s hips jerked and twitched, and he pushed Kuroo’s mouth off of his length with his paw, shoving at his shoulders.  He had very nearly finished, and that was not how he first wanted to come.  He wanted to come with Kuroo inside him.  So he sat up, urging Kuroo to withdraw his fingers before turning around to kneel on all fours.  His hips swayed teasingly in the air, legs spread, his tail waving lazily from side to side. 

“Ngh… Kuro…” Kenma breathed, more into the sheets than into the air. 

The emptiness that followed Kuroo removing his fingers begged to be filled, and he moaned and pressed his chest into the sheets, arching his back. 

Kuroo was not a cat easily tempted, but Kenma… Kenma drew him in like a spell, and after spilling some more lubricant onto himself, he grabbed Kenma’s hips and pushed in slow, bit by bit, inch by inch… He could feel Kenma stretching to accommodate his girth, and maybe he hadn’t been prepared quite as well as Kuroo would have preferred… he himself felt a faint stinging in his lower back from Kenma’s discomfort.  It was too bad their bond couldn’t be applied to pleasure instead of just pain… Kuroo would have loved for Kenma to have felt the sensations of his tongue on Kuroo’s cock. 

* * *

 

Lev shifted in his seat, feeling an uncomfortable stinging pain in his lower back.  It was small, could easily be ignored, but it appeared so suddenly.  Maybe he had slept on it wrong? 

* * *

 

“K-Kuro… Kuro… Kuro…” Kenma was whispering his name repeatedly, like a charm to protect him. 

“Kenma…” Kuroo responded in turn, taking deep even breaths to avoid coming too soon.  He’d only just put it in.

“Kuro… I feel so full…” Kenma whimpered, burying his face into his pillows and clawing at the cushion. 

“Ngh!” Kuroo hissed as Kenma’s hips moved suddenly, attempting to get the pace started.  “Slowly now…”

“I don’t want slow…” Kenma breathed, thrusting his hips again impatiently. 

Kuroo’s hands tried to steady Kenma’s hips, but he accidentally gripped a portion of Kenma’s less-than-stationary tail, making Kenma cry out suddenly and collapse onto his shoulders into the sheets, moaning and trembling.  Eyeing Kenma carefully, Kuroo ran his hands across the soft fur of Kenma’s tail, stroking it towards the base, watching how Kenma mewled and shuddered, almost purring.  The hint of pain Kuroo had felt across their bond had subsided, which gave him more initiative than anything Kenma said.  Grasping the base of Kenma’s tail tight with one hand, Kuroo gave an experimental thrust, and nearly came at the ecstatic cry Kenma gave out. 

 _Slowly_ , he reminded himself.  He couldn’t give out so soon, not after all that. 

Taking deep even breaths, he slid himself slowly in and out of Kenma’s incredible warmth, establishing a rhythmic pace, not slow enough to be frustrating, but not fast enough to drive them over the edge.  Every now and then, he thrust a little too hard or a little too fast and he could feel Kenma clench and shudder around him, crying out and clawing at the sheets from the high.  The poor maids were definitely going to have to just acquire new sheets for the bed after they were through. 

When he felt himself standing on the precipice, Kuroo hunched forward to press his chest to Kenma’s back, breathing hard into Kenma’s ear, which twitched at him.  Kenma craned his neck to meet Kuroo’s tongue with his own, and together they swallowed the other’s moans. 

“Kuro…” Kenma whispered against his guardian’s lips, struggling to keep his eyes open.  His vision was swimming from all the sensations, but he had managed to hold out.  “Kuro, I want to come… I want to come with you inside me…”

“Agh… Kenma…” Kuroo growled, but he too, was at his limit. 

Pushing Kenma’s shoulders into the mattress, Kuroo straightened up on the bed, readjusting his knees.  He grabbed Kenma’s hips firmly with one hand, then used the other to grab and stroke the base of Kenma’s tail… then began to thrust in so hard and fast the bed creaked all around them and Kenma’s cries echoed so loud in the bedchamber Kuroo was sure the whole castle could hear them. 

“Ah!  Ahh!  Ah!  K-Kuro!” 

“Ken—Kenma!  Ngh!  Hah!”

Their fevered cries rang in their ears, building and building, Kuroo could feel Kenma’s entire body tensing, drawing up for his release… He felt it instantly.  Kenma fell forward out of his grip, his entire body racked with spasms, his eyes hazed over from the sensations, his cock spilling onto the sheets in erratic bursts.  It was enough to drive Kuroo over the edge moments after, and he came half inside Kenma before pulling out and dripping onto the bed, his body bent over and struggling to catch his breath. 

“Hah… Hngh…” Kuroo groaned before he collapsed onto the bed beside Kenma, face down into the half-shredded pillows.  His body was roiling with ecstasy, he could barely muster the brain power to say Kenma’s name. 

“Kuro…” Kenma recovered first, rolling over to bury his face into the nook of Kuroo’s neck.  “Mmm… Kuro…”

Soon he was purring comfortably against the warmth of his guardian, his fingers tracing random patterns onto the skin of his broad back.  A wonderful fatigue was settling into his bones, and he mewled softly.  It took him several minutes before he realized Kuroo’s body was tense beneath his fingers, and that the guardian was refusing to show his face.

“Kuro?” Kenma shook his shoulders lightly.

He heard it.  A sniffle. 

“Kuro!”

Kenma forcibly rolled Kuroo onto his back, where the guardian now covered his face with his arm, his face red.  A wetness was trailing down his cheek, and Kenma worriedly shoved the arm away, looking down at his guardian, who looked back up at him with a smile.  He was weeping, yes, but his eyes weren’t… sad.  They were…

“Kuro are you—“

“I love you, Kenma.”  Kuroo hiccupped, wiping at his face.  “I’m just… hah… can you believe what a sap I am?” he sniffed. 

_Of course.  Of course I can._

Kuroo was the most selfless cat Kenma had ever known—it was so like him to be so deeply moved.  Kenma peppered his face with kisses; he kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids in turn, his lips… and pulled the guardian to his chest, where he wrapped his big, strong arms around his lord and squeezed him tight. 

“Stay with me tonight,” Kenma whispered, wanting to keep the warmth of Kuroo’s embrace with him as long as he could.  “Please.”

Kuroo buried his face into Kenma’s chest, not answering.  Kenma cared so little for his reputation, it was worrying—Kuroo feared he would do something truly reckless.  But their entire affair was reckless, what was the point of worrying about that now?  He wanted to make Kenma happy, and he wanted the kingdom to love and support their lord, and he wasn’t sure how to reconcile the two. 

Kenma’s fingers began running through his coarse, black hair, scratching lightly behind his ears, and Kuroo couldn’t help it—he began purring into Kenma’s touch, tail swaying happily.  He nodded his head. 

“Ok.  I’ll stay.” 

“Maybe when we go to Fukurodani, I could ask Lord Akaashi to put us in the same room?” Kenma teased, scratching at the base of Kuroo’s ears and giggling at the purring mess he held in his arms. 

“Poor Lev…” Kuroo murmured. 

“Whether you’re with me or not, Lev would have slept in a separate room anyway.  This way we’d take up two rooms instead of three.”

“He lives in a palace, Kenma.  I’m sure he has plenty of space to accommodate us.” 

“I’m looking forward to it,” Kenma admitted quietly, shifting his body slightly beneath Kuroo. 

“Good,” Kuroo smiled.  “It’s rare for you to be excited about anything; I’m glad.” 

“Though if you could keep your lovers’ spats with Bokuto to a minimum, I’d appreciate it.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like imagining Yaku as a scottish fold~ 
> 
> There will probably be at least one more chapter that takes place at Fukurodani. At least. I won't promise any more than that.
> 
> Tumblr: nimbus-cloud  
> Twitter: @luna_dreaming


	3. Here Beside Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training begins for Kenma (and Lev) at Fukurodani! Akaashi reveals how he lost his wing, and Kuroo reminds everyone he once fought in a war. 
> 
> Plus Bokuaka smut~

“You have to keep your head up when you lunge.  And keep the grip on your back foot steady to the ground so you can return to a defensive stance quickly if needed.” 

Kenma heard the instructions, saw the mistakes in his posture, sighed, then pulled himself up to a ready position, swinging the epee around him to loosen his arm.  The basics seemed simple enough, but refining the technique was another thing entirely, and it seemed that Lord Akaashi was nothing if not a perfectionist.  A hard instructor, but skilled and thorough.  It was only Kenma’s fifth day of training and already he felt his body had become stronger. 

“We can take a break if you require, my lord,” Akaashi smiled gently. 

 _Such a beautiful smile_ , Kenma thought.  He could never have guessed the hardness that lay beneath it. 

“Again.” Kenma replied firmly, shaking his head and brushing the hair off of his sweat-slicked forehead.

“As you wish.” 

Kenma took a deep breath, exhaled it slowly through his nose, brought the point of the epee up, and was going to lunge toward the dummy in front of him when he felt Akaashi gently lay his hands on him.  One hand wrapped around his own around the grip of the epee, the other rested gently on his hip.

“Think about which side you’re going to lunge with,” Akaashi explained softly as he adjusted Kenma’s posture.  “Don’t stand facing straight forward, you’ll make yourself a bigger target.  Turn slightly sideways…”

The hand on Kenma’s hip pulled him backwards and Kenma nervously shifted his weight, standing with his body offset from the training dummy.  He could feel Akaashi’s heat press into his back as the owl’s other hand slowly turned his own holding the epee.  It was more than a little challenging not to blush at the hands-on instruction… cats were more particular about their personal space than owls, it seemed.  It wasn’t just Akaashi; Kenma had seen how easily Bokuto lay his hands (sometimes even wings) all over Kuroo and Lev as they sparred or bathed.  It was _difficult_ to get used to.

“Remember, the entire body is a target.  Not every stroke needs to be a killing one to ensure victory.”

Kenma nodded, swallowing hard and gripping the epee tight in his hand.  The weight of it still felt heavy in his arms, but he knew he would grow used to it in time.  He tried to think of it as an extension of his own claws and shifted his weight carefully between his feet.  A lifetime of royal upbringing meant he had maintained at least a basic level of athleticism; as a cat, he would always be swift and flexible.  It was strength he lacked. 

He lunged forward, pressing the dulled point into the bottom left of the dummy before springing back into a defensive position, just managing to keep himself balanced.  The movement was sloppy, it didn’t feel natural yet, but Akaashi clapped his hands beside him.

“Better!” 

“I don’t think I’m anywhere near applause-worthy…” Kenma flushed.

“Progress is progress, my lord.  I assure you, you are learning quickly.” 

“Well I… suppose I’ll have to take your word for it.” 

“Though I’m afraid Bokuto can’t say the same of your younger guardian,” Akaashi admitted quietly, his eyes darting across the training grounds to where their three guardians were wrestling.  “He admits potential to the cub, but there seems a stubbornness preventing advancement of skill.” 

“That is a kindness,” Kenma laughed.  “To say Lev is stubborn.  I would use other, less favorable words to describe him.  But he has devoted his life to me, and that is not without its value.” 

A spasm of pain then jolted Kenma’s arm, and he dropped the epee suddenly, wincing at the pull he felt in his muscles. 

“If Bokuto could hold back his strength just a little more, I’d appreciate it,” Kenma groaned, massaging the muscles under his arm. 

“Ah, I’m sorry—Bokuto!” Akaashi called across the grounds, turning his head to where his guardian was holding the young lion cub’s arm back in a short armbar hold. 

At the mention of his name, Bokuto let Lev go immediately, and the cub scrambled away from the grip, stretching and rolling his shoulders, a look of extreme irritation on his face at being caught in a hold yet again.  After five days, he hadn’t managed to get the upper hand on Bokuto not even once, while Kuroo had managed it nearly half the times he had sparred with the owl guardian. 

“Sorry about that!” Bokuto held up both his hands in apology, a half-smile playing on his features.  “Didn’t mean to get so rough—guess Kenma felt that one.” 

“Should I make sure next time Akaashi feels it too?” Kuroo hissed lightly, arms crossed.  “I told you to hold back a bit with Lev!”

“Hey, he’s getting aggressive with me first!” Bokuto squawked in retaliation, feathers bristling.  “Tell him to hold back a bit, and I won’t have to escalate!”

Kenma sighed and rolled his shoulder in time with Lev, glaring at the bickering group in vain.  In another life, maybe, they would all get along splendidly… though he wasn’t quite sure if a chummy Bokuto and Kuroo would be better or worse. 

Before he could comment on it, however, Lev tackled Bokuto suddenly to the ground with a snarl, attempting to pin Bokuto to the ground with his legs while trying to get a handle on the massive, flapping wings.  White and grey feathers flew about around them as Bokuto easily twisted out of Lev’s loose grip and rolled them both over so their positions were reversed.  With a stronger grip than the young lion, Bokuto pinned Lev’s head to the floor, twisting his arm around and holding it against his back (with less force this time, so as not to cause Kenma pain), and let out a raucous, hooting laugh.

“Nice try, cub!” 

Kuroo clicked his tongue in annoyance as Bokuto released Lev from the hold. 

“Lev, what did I tell you about trying to overpower him?” 

“…it’s not always about brute strength…” Lev mumbled bitterly, pulling himself off the floor with a huff and nursing his sore shoulder.  Bokuto almost always went for his right arm, knowing it was his dominant one. 

“You’re more flexible than I am, remember?” Kuroo added.  “Stop getting flustered every time he gets a grip on you, and maneuver your body’s own strengths!” 

“I know, I know, I _know_!!!” Lev hissed, swiping his claws at the air. 

He wasn’t new to being chewed out; General Yaku had always been worse than Kuroo had ever been.  But the General’s words had always been tinted with a layer of affection he knew Kuroo didn’t feel... In that respect, he had been quite spoiled as a soldier.  Not to mention, Lev was getting more and more frustrated lately by his own inadequacies, and being away from home was getting to him.  He didn’t even have Alisa to talk to. 

Sighing, Kuroo threw a towel at Lev’s head.

“Go cool off.  You’re done for now.” 

“I can keep going.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”  Kuroo warned, his voice low and dangerous. 

Biting his lip, Lev stormed away from the mats, plopping himself down into the nearby bench.  He could hear Bokuto trying to cheer him up from afar, saying something about the potential he saw in him…  Well that was what everyone said, wasn’t it?  That he had the potential to do great things, that he showed promise… But what did any of that matter if he couldn’t tap into it?  Everyone had potential to do something or another, but if they couldn’t access that lurking greatness, none of it meant anything.  Lev didn’t just want to be told that someday he’d prove himself, he wanted to prove himself _now_. 

He watched as Kuroo and Bokuto took to the mat, circling around one another steadily.  Truthfully, Lev was in fact faster than Kuroo, but his reaction times were slow.  Kuroo’s reflexes were incredibly honed.  The second he could sense that a hold was going to backfire, he’d release Bokuto and pounce away for defense—Bokuto could do little more than get a hand on Kuroo anywhere before the panther would spin out of his grip or twist himself free.  And then there were the wings.  Lev couldn’t make heads or tails of what to do when the wings came into play.  When Bokuto lifted himself off the ground with several powerful flaps, it was terrifying; Lev didn’t know whether to hang on or let go or dive for cover. 

Kuroo dived at Bokuto’s waist, but with a strong jump and a mighty flap of his wings, Bokuto rose into the air above Kuroo’s head.  With a swift stop and turn, Kuroo grabbed Bokuto’s ankle and hurled him down at the moment his wings were folded between flaps.  The owl guardian hit the mat elbows first, groaning, and before he could get his bearings, Kuroo was on him, pinning him down to the mat with all of his weight. 

“All right, all right, all right!!  I give!!!” Bokuto squirmed and struggled.

Kuroo gave one last satisfied smirk before releasing the owl, then held out a hand to help him to his feet. 

That wasn’t just strength, Lev knew.  That was strategy and cunning, not to mention, experience.  Lev had never been on the battlefield like his partner or the General, and although he of course wanted nothing more than everlasting peace for his kingdom… he couldn’t deny longing for a real chance to get stronger.  It had clearly been beneficial for Kuroo’s combat capabilities…  He _needed_ to be better.  Even his own liege was showing tremendous progress and improvement in his own combat studies; Lev had no excuse for falling so behind.  But one way or another, he would prove himself the guardian everyone believed he could be. 

\--

Fukurodani kingdom was large and sprawling with great pockets of nature interspersed throughout its civilization.  Its winged residents could cover great distances and were unhindered by the obstacles of the land.  Rivers, hills, and valleys meant little to those who could soar above amongst the clouds.  There were metropolitan centers on the plains and by the rivers, for easy access to trade coming in from other kingdoms.  The bulk of the residential areas were housed in the great forests at the base of the Pallas Mountain that Akaashi called home. 

The mountain itself was a gloomy, imposing thing to Kenma.  Above the forest level, the passageways were thick with fog and mist—the castle was built into the side of the mountain itself, tunneling into the stone and chiseled out of its cliffs.  Always, he could feel a light breeze drifting through the castle halls, and all the rooms whistled with open windows.  They had no use for windows or railings… large parts of the castle didn’t even bother with a roof.  The castle endeavored to be bare and exposed to the sky, the breezes calling to them with open invitation.  Too open for the feline lord. 

But Kenma could think nothing ill of the Fukurodani mountain hot springs, which they frequented every night after their long hours spent training.  It was a blessing for his sore muscles, and he knew the springs were tinted with just the slightest hints of magic to help further its rejuvenating qualities.  Cats didn’t typically like water or bathing, but Kenma was quickly growing addicted to spending long hours soaking in the hot water. 

Usually, Kenma, Kuroo, and Lev found Akaashi and Bokuto already in the springs by the time they arrived, with Akaashi seated with his back to a wall of stone or against a rock.  But since the guardians were feeling especially energetic, Kenma and Akaashi found themselves alone after their training.  As they quietly shed their robes and set them aside, Kenma found himself staring at the large scar that spread itself across Akaashi’s shoulder like a stain where his wing had been. 

“I’m sorry,” Akaashi said gently as he lowered himself into the water.  “My scar must frighten you.” 

“No… it… it doesn’t,” Kenma muttered, turning his eyes downward.  “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s quite all right,” Akaashi smiled, stepping aside and into the springs so Kenma could enter.  “It’s only natural to have questions about it.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you’d rather not,” Kenma sat himself across from Akaashi, sinking low into the water such that his shoulders were submerged.  “I apologize for staring.” 

“I don’t mind telling you.  Especially since Bokuto isn’t here.  I don’t like to speak of it in front of him, you understand.  It saddens him.” 

Kenma felt reasonably sure it saddened the whole of Fukurodani to know their lord was a crippled flier but said nothing aloud. 

“It was a surprise attack, while we were traveling.” 

“Traveling?”

“I say that, but we were… I was younger, more adventurous.  I urged Bokuto to take me away from the palace because I selfishly wanted a night of freedom from my responsibilities.  We stole away at night, snuck away from my guards.  Bokuto blames himself but the fault is mine.”

“Bandits?”

“I should think that is the most likely explanation,” Akaashi sighed, cupping some hot water into his palm and pouring it over his wingless shoulder.  “We were outnumbered.  I didn’t know how to defend myself then, and Bokuto did the best he could.  Though none of his injuries were as severe as mine, he sustained much damage… in his position, I think many weaker owls might have died, but he endured.” 

Kenma nodded in silent acknowledgment.  Bokuto was strong, he knew. 

“What would you do if you ever found those bandits again?”

“They didn’t have wings, so I know they were none among my subjects.” 

Akaashi’s eyes grew suddenly sharp and cold.  Despite the hot water he was seeped in, Kenma felt a sudden chill run down his spine. 

“They were masked and stealthy, and I think they meant deliberately to mutilate me.  And if I ever encounter them again… I will repay them _tenfold_ for the skies they stole from me.” 

“That’s more frightening than any scar,” Kenma said, smiling nervously.  He was more than glad to be able to call Akaashi an ally on these rare occasions that he was privy to the owl’s hidden ruthlessness. 

Akaashi laughed and the coldness faded away in an instant, replaced by a familiar warmth, and then an altogether different fondness when their guardians came to join them soon after.  The energy of Bokuto’s presence sometimes unnerved Kenma, as if he would be overwhelmed by the tidal wave of the guardian’s raging spirit.  Although he considered Akaashi and himself similar in temperament and disposition, it was clear that Akaashi drew from Bokuto’s liveliness instead of being drained by it.  For that, Kenma was glad, though that didn’t stop him from scooting away from the owl guardian and closer to his own. 

“Akaashi, you’ll be happy to know that I am still the best guardian I’ve ever seen!” Bokuto sighed happily as he sank into the warm water, his shoulders relaxing at last. 

“Not much of a boast when you don’t have many points of comparison,” Kuroo smirked, easing himself into the springs beside Kenma.  “Try going head-to-head with the eagles from Shiratorizawa.  I bet you’d have a rougher time when your opponents have wings too.”

“I’ll face any challenger!  The skies are _my_ domain!”  Bokuto hooted, wings bristling. 

“And we were having such a relaxing time…” Akaashi sighed wistfully at Kenma, though a hint of a smile played on his lips. 

“Quiet and peaceful,” Kenma added with a smirk.  “Hang on… Kuroo, where’s Lev?”

“He wanted to continue training on his own,” the panther shrugged.  “I told him not to overdo it, but he insisted he’d be fine.”

“Well he is younger… probably has more stamina than an old tomcat like you.” Bokuto teased. 

Kuroo didn’t feel a need to argue that point; Bokuto was right.  Instead he nodded his head to the side in agreement, running a hand through his wild hair.

“Sure he does.  More stamina than skill, in any case.”

“Don’t tease him so much,” Kenma chided.  “Lev’s been so down lately, I can almost feel it across our bond.  You’re supposed to be his teacher.”

“There’s nothing I can do about his mood.  That’s something he needs to work out on his own,” Kuroo sighed, leaning his back against the stones.  “Don’t worry, he’ll figure things out soon enough.  I can see it in his eyes… the cub’s mane is growing out at last.” 

“Maybe someday he’ll be a challenge, even for you!” Bokuto laughed, eyes shining.

“That would only be a good thing, especially for Kenma.”  Kuroo replied dryly, a half sneer on his features.  “Someday soon our little lion will best _you_ with ease.” 

“Bokuto…” Akaashi grimaced suddenly, clutching at his shoulder. 

“Is it hurting again?” The owl guardian was at Akaashi’s back in a moment, examining the scar with furrowed eyebrows.  Normally so confident and boisterous… but whenever Akaashi was in pain, he felt a helpless owlet. 

“It’s only a little pain, but if you could…”

“Of course, just hang on.” 

Bokuto’s magic was weak and unskilled—he knew only a handful of spells, and they were all healing ones to help manage Akaashi’s wound and continuing discomfort.  Gathering his aura, he traced two fingers lightly over the scarred skin, drawing an old rune into the flesh.  The magic seeped into the damaged tissue, glowing faintly, and he watched Akaashi’s muscles slowly relax beneath his touch. 

“May I see?”  Kuroo asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Kuro—“ Kenma began but was cut off by a disgruntled Bokuto, who clutched his lord’s shoulders protectively.

“That’s _impertinent_ , even for you.” 

“I don’t mean any disrespect.”  Kuroo’s voice was sincere.  “Nor is it simply morbid curiosity—I want to help.”

“Please, Bokuto.  It’s fine.  I trust him.”  Akaashi took Bokuto’s hand gently in his own, pulling him aside so Kuroo could take a look. 

Slowly, the panther approached, bowing his head low out of humility before situating himself behind the owl ruler.  Bokuto stood beside him, surely ready to wrench his arm straight off if he did anything to hurt Akaashi. 

“May I touch you, my lord?” Kuroo asked softly. 

“Yes.”

Gently, Kuroo ran his fingers across the scar, feeling the raised edges of dead skin.  He traced the design of the scar’s edges, pressing lightly at the points. 

“How often does it hurt you?”

“Two or three times a week,” Akaashi murmured, hunching forward slightly so Kuroo could better see.  “More if I strain myself with too much physical activity.”

“Is the pain entirely localized?”

“Mostly.  I feel it most in my shoulder, but there are times when it seems to reverberate throughout my body.” 

Kuroo directed his next questions at Bokuto.

“Has the scar spread at all?”

“Spread?  N-no… I don’t think so.  I think I’d have noticed it growing bigger.”

“How long ago did this happen?” 

“Three years, five months, and thirteen days.” Bokuto replied solemnly, surprising them all with the exactness of his answer.  Failing to protect Akaashi that night was his greatest shame; he would remember it always.

A heavy silence followed the revelation; Kenma and Kuroo exchanged a worried, knowing glance, and Bokuto and Akaashi’s gazes were each directed firmly at their reflections in the water.  Kuroo coughed lightly to break the tension, running his fingers again across Akaashi’s back, and asking,

“I’m going to test a few pressure points, my lord Akaashi.  There may be some slight discomfort.”

“Please proceed.”

First, Kuroo pressed upward into the base of Akaashi’s skull, carefully eyeing how the intact wing seemed to bristle slightly.  The veins beneath the skin around the scar began to grow dark, almost black when he pressed on them.  He could feel the owl tensing beneath his touch, but he wasn’t pulling away—he had grown accustomed to this level of pain at least.  Then Kuroo pressed down into the upper point of the shoulder blade closest to the spine. 

Akaashi grimaced and fell forward, his mouth falling open with a sharp inhale and a small spurt of blood.  He brought a hand to his mouth immediately, and Kenma moved closer to him, not sure what to do, but unable to sit still. 

Bokuto grabbed Kuroo’s wrist in an instant, gripping it so hard Kuroo could feel it bruising.

“Hey!”  The horned owl’s eyes were fierce, almost glowing with rage.  No, not rage… a fierce protectiveness.

“Bokuto, stop it.  I’m fine.  It just surprised me is all.”  Akaashi coughed, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth and trying to offer Kenma a reassuring smile. 

“I’ve never seen you cough up blood like that, it’s not fine!”  Bokuto snarled, half-twisting Kuroo’s wrist in his hand.  “What did you do?!”

“Ah!” Kenma gasped, clutching his own wrist as Bokuto grew steadily more incensed. 

“Bokuto, stop it!” Akaashi commanded.  “It wasn’t Kuroo’s fault!  Let him go, you’re hurting Kenma!”

Kuroo was biting his lip, but otherwise showed no signs of pain, meeting Bokuto’s furious eyes with his own determined ones.  The horned owl searched for any hints of malice in that feline gaze but could find none, and eventually he loosened his strength.  He didn’t let go, but he was no longer threatening to rip Kuroo’s arm straight out. 

“Bokuto, I’ve… It wasn’t Kuroo.  I’ve always… been this ill.” 

“Akaashi…” Bokuto choked, letting go of the panther at last.  “You mean to tell me you’ve always… since… why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know what it was, I didn’t want you to worry—“

“I was going to worry either way!!!  But you… I don’t want you keeping a secret like that from me!”    

“What good would it have done to tell you?” Akaashi snapped, more irritated with himself than with Bokuto.  “Please apologize to our guests, Bokuto.” 

“I…” Bokuto bit his lip, blinking fiercely to hold back his tears, his wings bristling behind him.

Akaashi half feared Bokuto would fly off, feeling hurt and betrayed—he had every right to—but soon the guardian was bowing his head to Kuroo, fists clenched tight.  It was meant to be a show of humility, but Akaashi could see how disgraced Bokuto felt and bit his lip in frustration.  Whose fault was that exactly? 

“I’m sorry for…”

“It’s fine,” Kuroo answered instantly.  “I understand… wanting to protect your lord.”

Kuroo’s eyes met Kenma’s, and the guardian’s gaze flicked to the ruler’s wrist.  Kenma gave a small wave to indicate he was fine, and Kuroo gave a visible sigh of relief.  It wouldn’t do to get into an actual heated fight with Bokuto—he could reasonably imagine getting seriously hurt, and that would have consequences for more than just himself.    

Kenma watched silently as Kuroo then slowly stepped away from the two owls, bowing again respectfully, before moving to the edge of the pool.  Kuroo passed a wash cloth to him to give to Akaashi—to clean the blood—before taking a deep exhale.  Kenma hadn’t known that Kuroo possessed any knowledge of medicine or treatment of pain… but perhaps all soldiers knew some standard repertoire of first aid to manage their injuries.  Maybe even Lev would know a few things… any amount would be more than Kenma knew, in any case.

“I’ve seen this before… in a much worse form.”  Kuroo spoke quietly, his eyes lowered.  “That wound, that pain… isn’t just lingering from the damage of having his wing removed.  He’s been poisoned too; it’s in his blood, not just his shoulder... it’s not just a scar.” 

“Poisoned?” Kenma repeated, brows furrowed and ears folded. 

“The magic treatments are keeping the toxins at bay well enough, but there are anti-venoms that would serve better use.  Given a month, I should think my lord’s pain would subside completely, with no more need for the spells.” 

“I don’t recall being poisoned…” Akaashi whispered.  “I wasn’t bitten or scratched… how can—“

“Blades and arrow-tips can be dipped in venom or fused with poisons… Even a graze can be a killing stroke that way… and the death is slow and prolonged, full of agony.  You were meant to die a slow, painful death three years ago.  But the magic Bokuto administers has been keeping you alive.” 

Kenma had never heard Kuroo talk about when he was a soldier.  The guardian didn’t like to, and Kenma had never wanted to pry.  Truthfully, Kenma didn’t like recalling that time either… the months he had spent worrying sick while Kuroo was deployed, unable to focus on his lessons while knowing that his friend was out there somewhere risking his life for their kingdom… They were both content to leave it in the past, but as he watched Kuroo speak with gritted teeth and deeply furrowed brows, Kenma wondered if maybe it might have been better to ask.  Would it have been better to have him speak of the horrors he had seen and the friends he had lost instead of burying it such that the memories grew rotten and sour?  Kenma reached beneath the water’s surface to take Kuroo’s hand in his own, a silent apology for letting him suffer alone.   

“Snake venom is a ghastly thing…” Kuroo whispered.  “And there are many and varying strains.  But I’m sure that a doctor who knows what to look for can identify the proper anti-venoms for treatment.  Combined with Bokuto’s magic—and it does help, believe me—my lord, you can get better.” 

 _Not completely better_ , Akaashi thought bitterly.  It alarmed him that he felt such acidic feelings before gratitude—he owed Kuroo many thanks but… but even without the pain he would never fly on his own again. 

“Thank you, Kuroo.” Akaashi smiled as best he could, bowing his head to his guests.  “I think that should make my daily life much easier.  If you’ll excuse me, I think I’d like some time alone before dinner.” 

Bokuto rushed to bring Akaashi his robe, helping him gingerly out of the springs before following quietly, turning to give one final nod of thanks to the panther. 

“Will he really be fine?” Kenma asked, watching them go. 

“As fine as he can be… he’ll still never recover his wing.” 

“I’ve never heard you talk about the war.” 

“You never asked.” Kuroo shrugged, lightening his tone.  “And there’s not much to say.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Kenma insisted, turning his shining amber eyes to his guardian.  “I think there’s a lot you could say… and a lot you probably should talk about.”

“Kenma, you don’t need to hear any of that.”

“I want to.  If it’ll help you.” 

Kuroo regarded him with a long silence before playfully splashing some of the hot water at him with a grin. 

“If I feel like I need to talk about it, I will.  Okay?”

“Okay…” Kenma said doubtfully.  “Also, Kuro?”

“Hm?”

“…I’m getting pruney.  We should probably get out and look for Lev.” 

* * *

 

“No—stop it, let me go!!!”  Nooo!!!  AGH—AHHHH!!!”

Akaashi struggled wildly but the hands that held him down were firm and cruel.  A boot pressed painfully into his back, crushing him to the ground and pushing the air out of his lungs.  What air he could breathe in was marred by dirt as a brutish grip in his hair held his face to the ground.  Somewhere he could hear Bokuto screaming his name—Bokuto, oh god Bokuto…

_I’m so sorry—Bokuto, please help me!_

He felt the cold steel touch the back of his neck, and then he was still, his body cold with terror. 

_No… oh no, no…_

There was laughing all around him, jeering and derisive laughter.  Broken, they called him.  Weak, pathetic, useless…

“Let’s clip your pretty wingsss…”

_Please… Bokuto… anyone…_

And then a sharp pain ran up his spine, down his arms, to his fingertips—the sharp edge of the blade was pressing into his shoulder, at the flesh were feathers transitioned into skin.  Akaashi flailed and flapped his wings, anything to get them off him, but the hand in his hair gripped him roughly and slammed his face into the ground.  He tasted blood and tears on his tongue and sobbed, his struggles growing weaker.  There was more laughter all around him, above him—Akaashi committed their voices to memory, tried to turn his fear into hate and hate into loathing…

But the loathing turned to pain in his throat.  He screamed and he screamed as the blade was discarded in favor of simply ripping the wing out coarsely, tearing away skin and sinew as feathers dusted the ground.  White hot agony blurred his vision—the hands left him, but he couldn’t lift himself up, he couldn’t muster anything but a guttural scream.  His body shook in violent spasms, he gripped fistfuls of earth in his talons and cried.  What little feeling he had left in his body not devoted to anguish felt the warm stickiness that flowed down his back, soaking the earth beneath him, red and ghastly. 

When he looked up, Bokuto was covered in that same red, stumbling and staggering toward him. 

_No…  Not you too…_

When he looked down, his hands were stained with it.  When he looked around, the dark forest had disappeared… where he was now, he didn’t know. 

The pain was gone. 

He was standing—when had he brought himself to his feet?

Beneath him lay the pretty corpses of the creatures who had attacked him.  He could see none of their faces though every other detail was bright and clear. 

_Dead?  Already?_

Clean and free of blemishes, as if sleeping… It struck him to the bone with a vengeful fury, and he hurled himself down at the bodies, digging his talons into their flesh and clawing at them, ripping shreds of skin from their bodies, digging into their insides and hacking away at whatever he could grab.  It wasn’t even satisfying.  They weren’t even alive to scream. 

_Akaashi!_

Somewhere in the distance, he heard Bokuto’s voice cry out to him.  They had hurt him too, hadn’t they?  Humiliated him and disgraced them both…

“Akaashi!” 

Akaashi jolted awake with a gasp, his breath coming in shallow, fast pants.  Sweat beaded his forehead, but there was a chill in his bones—tears in his eyes… He had been crying.  What about? 

“B-Bokuto…”

“I’m here.  It’s okay.” 

Akaashi flung his arms around his guardian, burying his face into the horned owl’s chest, searching for the sound of his heartbeat to calm him.

_He’s here.  He’s here with me.  He’s all right._

Bokuto’s fingers ran gently through his hair, a soothing, tender touch.  Everyone though him such a strong beast—and he was—but no one knew how tender he could be.  How fragile, even. 

“Why are you here?” Akaashi whispered, his heart finally calming, reaching a steady pulse that beat in time with his guardian. 

“You were crying—I came to wake you.”

“Tell me the real reason.”  Akaashi commanded softly—Bokuto was a heavy sleeper, he’d only come if Akaashi had been screaming, and he knew he hadn’t been.

“…I had a nightmare too.” Bokuto admitted quietly, his arms wrapping tightly around Akaashi’s shoulders. 

“Of that night?”

“Is there anything else we’d both have nightmares about?” 

“What did you dream?” Akaashi asked.

“I don’t want to say… I don’t want to think about it.”  Bokuto only gripped him tighter, his voice cracking.

The castle whistled faintly in their ears, the night winds sweeping through the stony halls encouraging dreams of flight and freedom.  To Akaashi as he was presently, the very breezes that once carried him through the skies now only reminded him of the mocking laughter he heard in his nightmares.  He couldn’t stand the sound echoing through his castle. 

Reaching up, he pulled Bokuto down for a hungry kiss, nipping at his lip and pressing against Bokuto’s mouth with his tongue, forcing out a surprised, but-undeniably-pleased moan.  These were the sounds he wanted to hear.  These were the sensations he wanted to drown in. 

“Bokuto…” he whispered into the guardian’s lips, pressing him down beneath him on the bed. 

“Akaashi…” came the breathy reply.  “I—hnghh…”

The words died in his throat when Akaashi ground his hips against him, leaning down to take one of his ears between his teeth, sucking on the lobe.  Bokuto attempted to shift beneath Akaashi’s weight, trying to fold his wings in more comfortably. 

The clouds shifted in the sky in time with their heated bodies, letting in a ray of dim moonlight.  It splashed across the room with a pearly white light, casting sharp shadows against the walls as it illuminated them both.  Bokuto’s eyes were shining a dazzling gold in the silvery moonlight, little suns in the night. 

 _The moon doesn’t give off its own light_ , Akaashi thought.  _It borrows its light from the sun.  From the sun to the moon to the suns in your eyes…_ _Did you know, Bokuto?  That my favorite color is the gold of your eyes._

He cradled Bokuto’s face in his hands, gazing long and deep into his guardian’s eyes before whispering,

“Bokuto, look at me.”  A plea more than a command.

“I _am_ looking at you,” Bokuto smiled, the corners of his eyes wrinkling with affection.  “I can’t take my eyes off you.” 

“Good.” 

Akaashi slid down Bokuto’s body, kneeling on the floor beside the bed.  Bokuto rose to a sitting position, his legs dangling over the side, holding his breath as Akaashi slowly unraveled Bokuto’s robes, then ran his fingers up the inside of the guardian’s thighs.  The muscles tensed and rippled beneath his touch, and between those strong thighs, Bokuto’s cock stirred.  Akaashi licked his lips hungrily before tilting his chin upwards, locking his gaze with Bokuto’s as his lips slowly took the hot length into his mouth. 

Inch by inch he swallowed him in, watching as Bokuto’s eyelashes fluttered and his chest began to heave with rasping breaths.  When he felt the tip bump against the back of his mouth, the guardian groaned low and shut his eyes, gripping the edge of the bed so tight his knuckles grew white.  Akaashi breathed in carefully through his nose, then opened his throat, stretching his vocal chords as if to sing, and took Bokuto further and further in until his face brushed against the guardian’s pelvis and the coarse hairs there tickled his nose. 

“Ahnnn… Ah… Hah… Akaa… shi… w-wow…”

Bokuto’s hips quivered beneath his touch, and Akaashi hummed around the flesh in his mouth.

“Ah!”

With a flurry of feathers, Bokuto’s wings twitched and unfurled halfway, painting the carved stone walls with fluttering shadows.  The guardian’s hands grasped Akaashi’s hair roughly, pulling the ruler’s head back so Bokuto wasn’t so encased in that overwhelming heat.  Eyes still shut, he tried to catch his breath, but the second his grip slackened, Akaashi dove forward again, now pressing his tongue up against the underside of his length for added pressure. 

“Sh-shit!” 

And then as suddenly as the warm wetness had taken him, it was gone, and he opened his eyes at last to see Akaashi wiping a trail of saliva from the corner of his mouth, looking up at him with an expression that set his entire body ablaze. 

“You stopped looking at me.”

“I…” Bokuto panted.  “You’re making it pretty damn difficult…”

“That’s no excuse.” 

Akaashi’s tone was cold, but there was a smirk playing on his rosy lips, the same lips that had just been firmly wrapped around his cock.  Bokuto was about to beg forgiveness when Akaashi rose briefly to retrieve the lubricant from his bedside table—a bottle the lord left out in broad daylight for all the cleaning maids to see and question if they dared. 

The guardian admitted a little disappointment to himself—Akaashi’s mouth always felt amazing and after the shit nightmare he had just had, he was craving the oral attention more than ever. 

“Don’t pout, Bokuto.”

“I wasn’t—“ he began, but he knew how much he lacked a proper poker face. 

“Promise to keep your eyes on me this time?” Akaashi stood before him again, undoing the tie of his own robe and letting it slip from his shoulders.  Naked before his guardian, the moon at his back, he slowly lowered himself to his knees.

Bokuto’s lips were on his own before his knees even hit the floor, the guardian’s hands rough in his hair.  When Akaashi’s eyes fluttered open as Bokuto’s tongue pressed into him, he saw the guardian’s sharp gaze fixed intensely on him, the piercing gold sending a shiver through him and draining the strength from his limbs.  He fell to his knees, his body on fire. 

“Bokuto…” he panted, pouring the lubricant onto his fingers hurriedly and pressing them to himself.  His wing fluttered as he pressed one finger swiftly inside with little pause. 

“Akaashi, what can I—“

“Fuck me, Bokuto…” Akaashi moaned.  “Here…” He opened his mouth wide, his tongue falling forward from between his lips. 

“Ah… Akaashi…” Bokuto groaned, his eyebrows furrowing.  He brought his hand up to cover his mouth, sighing, “I may not… be able to hold back…”

“That’s perfect,” Akaashi gasped as he moved his fingers inside himself.  “Do whatever you want.  You know I love it when you’re rough with me.” 

If they were going to be honest, Bokuto was almost never gentle.  He was certainly capable of it, but in the heat of the moment, Akaashi was always just too sexy, and he couldn’t help himself.  Well… as long as Akaashi liked it that way, there were no complaints to be had, were there? 

Bokuto took a slow moment to run his hands gently through Akaashi’s hair, cradling his face in a rare moment of tenderness and smiled down at his wanton lord. 

“So beautiful…” he murmured softly and grinned to see Akaashi blush, lashes fluttering as he blinked rapidly with embarrassment.

“Mmph!”

And then Bokuto was thrusting himself into Akaashi’s mouth, his hips moving rapidly and without warning.  His wings fell open, flapping occasionally with agitation; the excitement took such hold of his body, his wings could never quite tell the difference: to fly or not to fly?  But he was already flying.  Being with Akaashi like this was like nothing else.  His groans grew choked and strained as he began to feel a dull ache in the back of his throat. 

_Ah… it does hurt him at least a little…_

But when he looked into Akaashi’s eyes, he saw only a blind ecstasy, cheeks flushed, his hips thrusting helplessly into the air as he worked into himself with his fingers.  How many fingers did Akaashi have inside him at this point?  One?  Two?  However many it was, his lord was beginning to moan uncontrollably around the vigorous thrusting in his mouth and Bokuto could feel himself growing immensely close to his release. 

“Ahhh… Ah, Akaashi…”  He gasped, pulling out suddenly, swallowing hard around the tightness he felt in his own throat.  “Are… are you ready?” 

Akaashi brought a hand to his used mouth, moaning heavily as he pulled his other fingers out of his ass.  He was about to rise and position himself above Bokuto, but the guardian’s hands were suddenly grabbing his shoulders and pulling him up onto the bed, pressing his face and chest into the soft mattress as he reached for the lubricant. 

“N-no… wait…” Akaashi gasped, his voice muffled by the sheets. 

“I can’t…” 

“B-Bokuto… just… let me…”

With a sudden flutter of his wing, Akaashi ushered Bokuto’s weight off him before turning over so his back was on the mattress.  He wanted them to face each other. 

“Like this…” he huffed, reaching up with his arms to wrap them around Bokuto’s neck. 

“Is this so you can see my eyes?” Bokuto grinned, leaning over Akaashi and taking a nipple between his teeth.  He hadn’t realized Akaashi was such a fan of being looked at. 

“…sure.”  Akaashi moaned, arching his back into Bokuto’s touch.

“Hey!  You hesitated!”  Bokuto pouted. 

“…I don’t like… doing it from behind…” Akaashi muttered quietly, moaning softly when he felt Bokuto’s hand lift his leg up. 

“Hmm…”

Bokuto nodded, positioning himself at Akaashi’s entrance and pushing slowly in.  Akaashi’s body took him in greedily, and Bokuto kept talking so he could distract himself.  Otherwise, he wouldn’t last very long at all, and where was the fun in that? 

“If you prefer it… Ngh… this way…  Ah!  I won’t argue…” Bokuto grunted, adjusting himself after he was buried completely inside.  “But I’ve heard… ahhh… It feels really good… doing it from behind…” 

Apparently, Akaashi wasn’t in the mood to belabor the point.  As soon as Bokuto seemed nestled inside, he began to rock his hips impatiently, making the guardian buckle and groan above him. 

“It feels better… this way…” Akaashi panted, reaching between their bodies to grasp his own cock.  “This way… you can’t see my scar…”

Bokuto stop thrusting almost immediately, his breathing coming in heavy, erratic gasps, but still his hips stilled, and Akaashi groaned with frustration at the loss of sensation. 

“Akaashi…” Bokuto choked.

“Don’t… don’t be sad…” Akaashi whispered, pulling the guardian down and kissing his cheeks in apology.  “Please don’t.”

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

“What’s the point of apologizing now?” Akaashi let out a strained chuckle, and brushed Bokuto’s stray bangs from out of his eyes.  “It’s done.  Please… Bokuto… Forget all that and just hold me.” 

He swayed his hips a bit to recapture the guardian’s attention back to what mattered.  Really, it was his fault for bringing up the scar without thinking.  Akaashi craned his neck forward so he could recapture Bokuto’s lips in a kiss, coaxing him back to the moment with his soft kisses.  Soon they were both moaning into each other’s mouths as Bokuto resumed his pace.  When he began to thrust faster and faster, their lips fell apart, their moans and pants filling the air and echoing in their ears. 

“B-Bokuto… Ah!  Ahh!”

“Akaa… shi…!”

They whispered each other’s names over and over to each other, grounding themselves.  They were no longer in their nightmares.  No longer in that horrible past.  The present reality was sweeter… hotter… wetter… It worked their bodies into sweaty, heaving messes. 

“Bokuto!”  Akaashi keened, coming suddenly and spilling himself between their bodies. 

“Ak—aashi!!” Bokuto growled, unrelenting in his pace. 

He thrust himself repeatedly into Akaashi all through his orgasm, until the lord was dry and spent, still heaving, his body wrecked.  Bokuto began to feel dull aches in his lower back and beneath his abdomen, Akaashi’s discomfort.  But still the lord was panting and whispering his name, biting his lip and enduring it, loving it… loving _him_. 

“Ak—aah!  Ahh!” Bokuto spilled into his lover, filling him deep and full.  

Akaashi groaned, a light sob wracking his chest as he felt the hot fluid drip out of him and down the cleft of his cheeks, staining the sheets.  Everything was messy and he was having trouble catching his breath, his body sore all over and his cum-filled hole aching. 

“Bokuto…” Akaashi moaned, reaching for him in the darkness. 

“Akaashi…” The guardian nestled into his lord’s side, pressing tender kisses to his sweat-beaded forehead.  “Are you okay?  Was that too much?”

“It was what I wanted…” Akaashi sighed, burying his face into Bokuto’s chest.  “Thank you.”

Bokuto snorted, and the exhale of air tickled Akaashi’s eyelashes. 

“That sounds so weird.  Thanking me after sex?  So formal!”  Bokuto laughed, and the sound returned the flush to Akaashi’s cheeks. 

“Well… I _am_ a Ruler… Formalities are…”

“I love you, Akaashi.” 

“You—“

Akaashi sighed in exasperation, biting his lip and trying to unfurrow his eyebrows.  Bokuto said it so easily, always… And Akaashi was still so easily affected, even after all this time.  He pounded his fist against Bokuto’s chest lightly, as if to berate the guardian for his candor… and to remind himself of Bokuto’s presence, strong and unyielding. 

_He’s here.  Flesh and blood beside me._

And that was always enough to keep the nightmares at bay. 

* * *

 

Lev lay panting in the lower castle courtyard, the moon at his back, casting his shadow on the carved stones and pillars.  It was long past the hour when everyone else had gone to rest, and he could feel his endurance waning—he had pushed himself hard over the past week and especially on this day. 

_Just once more… Just once…_

He tried feebly to pull himself up and off his knees, but his muscles were screaming, resisting every inch of motion and after several minutes, he collapsed fully onto the ground, letting out a weak roar of frustration.  It echoed quietly into the mountainside, enough to disturb the sleeping creatures in the wild but not enough to startle them from their nests. 

_Alisa… General Yaku…_

He thought of the people who loved him, believed in him… the ones he wanted to protect at all costs in addition to his lord.  He tried to picture their faces in his mind and muster the strength to clamber to his feet for their sake.  The most he could manage was a twitch of his feet.  It hurt to even curl his toes.  At this rate, he’d be useless for even tomorrow’s training. 

_Pathetic._

It was his last thought before he passed out into a deep sleep beneath the starry sky, waking hours later just before sunrise with a sore back, stiff limbs, and a chill under every inch of skin. 

“Ugh…”

At the very least, he could try to spend the last few hours before the morning meal in a bed.  He cracked his neck and pulled on his arms, attempting to stretch the stiffness out of his body.  He rubbed at his eyes and ran his fingers down his cheeks, scratching at the itchy stubble on his cheeks. 

It took him until he was in his guest room of the palace that it occurred to him what the hitherto-absent-but-now-present stubble on his face meant. 

“M-my mane…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that all the dramatic reveals and conversations happen while everyone is literally nekkid in front of each other in a hot spring, but honestly, I'm not sure nudity matters that much to them. Or at least that's my excuse. 
> 
> Miraculously I got this chapter posted in time for Bokuaka day (4/5), so I'm giving myself kudos for that lol. 
> 
> Did you know lions can leap 36 feet? 
> 
> \--
> 
> Tumblr: nimbus-cloud.tumblr.com  
> Twitter: @Luna_Dreaming


	4. Something Slithers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having completed the Seasons sequel, I've returned to the Ruler AU with something resembling a plot! 
> 
> Ah, there is a Kuroken smut scene at the end of this chapter.

“Welcome home, young master Lev!”  The aged steward bowed low and deep, tough the formalities were somewhat lightened by the absolutely doting grin he sported beneath his moustache.  “What an unexpected surprise—what brings you by the manor?” 

“Hello Edgar, I’m sorry I didn’t send word beforehand.”

“Nonsense, this is your home!”

“Is Alisa in?”

“Oh I’m afraid the Lady Alisa is away on a journey with the master and mistress, your parents.  Did you have urgent business with her?  I can send a raven—“

“No no, it’s nothing urgent!” Lev shook his head vigorously.  “I just… ah… wanted to talk to her is all.”

“I’m afraid they won’t be back for some time—at least several weeks—are you sure you wouldn’t rather send a raven?” 

“I’m sure.”

“How was your trip to Fukurodani with our liege?”

“Fruitful!” Lev grinned.  He ruffled his lengthened hair and turned his chin to show off his better side.  “Notice anything different about me?”

“Different?” the old steward scratched his chin thoughtfully and adjusted his spectacles.  “Well, you certainly seem… more grizzled, I suppose…”

“My mane is growing in at last!”

“Oh!” Edgar jumped and brought his gloved hands to his greyed whiskers gleefully.  “So it is!  Oh, I see how why you wanted to meet with your Lady sister!” 

“But no ravens.  By the time the family returns, it’ll have grown even more, and I want to surprise her.  I want to surprise them all.” 

“But of course, Master Lev.”  Edgar gave a knowing smile and brought up a finger to his lips.  _Our little secret_ , it gestured.  Like they used to do when Lev was but a cub.

“Though your family isn’t here presently, could I perhaps convince you to stay for lunch?  I’m sure the chef would be only too thrilled to prepare a Nekoma guardian’s favorite dishes.” 

“Well…”

But before Lev could respectfully decline—guardians couldn’t simply dally about at home, he needed to return to Kenma’s side as soon as he was able—the bell to the manor was rung, and the two jumped where they stood in the atrium. 

“They can’t have returned from their trip already?” Lev raised an eyebrow.

“No, they’d have sent a raven ahead first.” 

Edgar excused himself to answer the door and the two found themselves faced with a young lady in the doorway, modestly dressed, and with the coloring of a gray tabby.  Lev couldn’t recall if he knew her at all or had seen her at court—he was certain he’d remember if he had.  She was lovely. 

“My apologies for dropping in unannounced,” she spoke quietly, but not timidly.  “I’m an acquaintance of the Lady Alisa… though it’s been some years since we’ve had the pleasure of seeing one anther… Mika?”

“Mika!” Lev repeated the name, recognition coloring his tone and relaxing the suspicion in Edgar.  Her face wasn’t familiar, but the name was—Alisa had indeed been friends with a Mika when she had been a kitten at court.  It was in Lev’s vaguest recollections that Mika and her family had moved away somewhere several years ago. 

“Oh, hello—oh!  Oh is—is that our little Lyovochika?” she laughed.  “Oh, but you’re not cub anymore, look how you’ve grown!  How marvelous you look!”

Lev puffed out his chest slightly and beamed with pride before declaring, “I think I’ll stay for lunch after all, Edgar.  Have our chef prepare a luncheon for two, if you would.”

“Oh no, I don’t mean to intrude as far as all that, I just—“

“It’s no problem at all!” Lev insisted before he ushered her inside.  “I’m sorry to say that Alisa and my family have gone on a trip and won’t be available for some time, but since you’ve come all this way, let the Haiba estate at least show you some hospitality!”

“Well… if you insist…” she stammered, though she didn’t much resist.

“I do!”

And at Edgar’s insistence, the chef prepared only her best and Lev’s favorite dishes for the impromptu luncheon, champing at the bit at the challenge presented to her.

“’Those palace cooks can’t possibly know how little Lev likes his food,’ were her words as I took these dishes from her, so I’m afraid you’re now obligated to pass a verdict her way before you depart, Master Lev.”  Edgar chuckled as he laid out their first course.

“I’ll be sure to let Irina know that her food is always going to be my absolute favorite.” Lev smiled, grinning from ear to ear as he sampled his first spoonful—there was nothing quite like the taste of home. 

“Why didn’t you go with your family on their trip?  Or—are you still in the military academy?” Mika ventured once they were well into their meal.

“You’ve been away so I guess you’re not all up-to-date…”

“Moving out to the country,” she sighed.  “It’s about as eventful as you might imagine.  But we’ve also traveled rather frequently, and news is always harder to come by when you’re on the move.”

“I’m not a cadet anymore, I’m a guardian.”

“A g-guardian?!” her fork clattered unceremoniously onto the table, and she jumped in her chair.  “To the—a guardian to the Ruler, you mean?”

“I know it hasn’t been long.  He was only recently coronated, but—“

“Is it okay for you to be here?!  Shouldn’t you be… I don’t know… on duty?” Mika flushed.  “And for my part—to be so ignorant—oh I’m so… you must think me such a klutz.”

“I couldn’t name half the noble lords in the land and I see them all the time,” Lev admitted with a childish glee.  “And I’m not in uniform.  I know I don’t look like much, especially not something as grand as guardian—“

“I don’t think that.” Mika interrupted.  “I could tell from the moment I saw you again.  You’re not little Lyovochika anymore.  You looked grander to me from the start, and I know your family must be so very proud of you.”

Lev found himself at a slight loss for words, so rare were the occasions where people held him in high regard.  At the palace, he was still a bumbling cub in the eyes of many: the Magisters, Kuroo, Kenma, even to General Yaku; he knew none of them held him in particularly high esteem, thinking of him instead as always in need of improvement.  He was berated for his mistakes and shortcomings near daily.  It was only in the eyes of the commoncats and his family that he shined at all. 

“I…I still have a lot to learn,” he admitted shyly.  It seemed silly now, how excited he had been earlier to show off his fledgling mane to his sister.  As if a little extra hair proved him any better a guardian or lion. 

“Well everyone has to start somewhere… and you’re quite young to be a guardian; I think you’ve done quite well for yourself, you needn’t be so modest.”

“Thank you…” Lev muttered, paws shifting almost nervously beneath the table. 

“Ah but… I haven’t asked you yet—what did you come to see my sister about?”

Slowly, Mika gently placed her fork down so as to not cause a scene this time and cleared her throat.  “It… it was presumptuous in truth.  I’ve a wish to return to the Capitol—life on the outskirts of civilization suit me not at all—and… well, Alisa had always shown me such kindness when we were kits… I had hoped, quite brazenly, that she’d allow me to impose upon the hospitality of her home at least for a brief period until I can secure suitable lodgings for myself.  But—“

“Well that shouldn’t be a problem, especially while they’re away.” Lev chimed in.  “I’ll have Edgar prepare one of the guest bedrooms for you and give you a tour of the grounds in the evening.  You’ll have the full run of the place, I’m hardly ever home as I live in the palace now…”

“That’s very generous, but… should you grant me such leniency?  Showing up out of the blue as I have…”

“I’m master of this estate while my father is away, and you are an old friend of my sister.” 

“You’d take me at my word for such a claim?” Mika asked, her tone almost accusing.  “Surely you don’t fully recognize me yourself, it’s been so long—“

“You called me Lyovochika.” Lev stated plainly, with all the simplicity of a soldier.  “Only Alisa calls me that.  It’s not a name just anyone would know.  Though you’re right, I don’t exactly recognize you.  You’re more beautiful than I remember.” 

Mika flushed and fidgeted with her fingers in her lap, and Lev realized too late what he had just let slip.  Gesturing frantically for Edgar to bring out their next course, he cleared his throat loudly for a change of topic and pointedly ignored the wink Edgar sent his way. 

“Edgar, if you could ready the guest bedroom for Lady Mika, she’ll be staying here awhile.  And then give her a tour of the grounds this evening, if you would?”  Lev coughed as Edgar bowed and excused himself from the table.  “I should return to my liege—“

“Leaving so soon?” Mika moved to rise with him, but he motioned for her to remain seated.  “Ah but, you’ve so many important duties, I expect…”

“I’ll check in as often as I’m able,” Lev smiled.  “Though I leave you in very capable hands.”

“Is that a promise?” Mika called to Lev’s retreating back.  “I should like to see you as often as you’re available.”

Lev felt an unfamiliar blush creep up to his cheeks, and knew only from Edgar’s gaze that he was gaping.  He shook himself back to his senses and managed a stammered reply—better than gawking with his jaw on the ground.

“I’ll… I’ll see what I can manage.”

And then he was off the grounds of his family’s estate as fast as he could possibly manage, his heartbeat drumming in his ears.  Now that was bizarre.  Not entirely unpleasant, if he were being honest with himself, but bizarre. 

* * *

 

 _Dreary_ … Lord Daishou thought as he walked the narrow underground corridors of his castle downward toward the meeting chambers.  The bulk of the Nohebi castle was buried beneath the earth with winding passageways that threaded themselves through and around the bedrock.  The seemingly modest architecture above-ground exposed nothing of the true volume of the place—a decorative tip of a stony iceberg, meant to appease travelers and diplomatic envoys, who did not trust being led underground for matters of state.  But the true heart of the castle held no windows, proffered no light afternoon breezes or trickles of sunlight… it was cold and dark, and quiet slithers and hisses constituted the ambient sound.  Dreary.

But dreary suited him just fine.  He was a snake, not some sun-loving mammal that frolicked in fields and shed fur and hair everywhere at a whim.  Once, as a child, this fact had vexed him.  Surrounded by cats in the Nekoma royal court where he had once been a ward, as a foolish hatchling, he had longed to be just like the creatures with whom he kept company.  But he came to his senses quickly enough with adolescence, and now warm-blooded creatures served only to irritate him.  Some more than others.

He walked with three soldiers of his personal guard, Kuguri, Hiroo, and Seguro, the most taciturn of the seven members of the Hydra.  In future, Daishou would make sure to avoid this particular combination of guards—they made for awful conversation partners.  Dreary he could handle, but with these three mutes marching behind him, everything felt much too somber. 

“Oomizuki should have returned by now with his report…” Daishou grumbled to himself as they walked.

“He has.” Hiroo remarked casually.

“What?”

“He’s been walking with us awhile,” Kuguri supplemented.  “In the shadows.”

“Blasted—Oomizuki!” Daishou called into the corridor, his voice echoing off the stone walls. 

“At your service, my liege,” a voice hissed from the darkness before an inky black figure emerged, swaying with the flickering black shapes on the walls. 

“At my service, but you play games with me from the shadows,” Daishou bristled. 

“Is that not the pride of a spy, my lord?  To remain hidden until called upon?”  As Seguro let out a chuckle beside Daishou, Oomizuki continued with a smirk, “And what of those who knew my presence and chose not to inform you?  Are they not indulging in a more sinister game when compared to myself?” 

Seguro’s chuckle quickly melted into a hiss, and the other guardians beside him tensed.  But Daishou laughed, shaking his head and baring his fangs. 

“Intrigue is your game, not mine.  Count it your win, if you want.  It’s clear I can’t depend on my guard to help me,” Daishou elbowed Seguro playfully.  “What news do you have for me, Oomizuki?”

“For all ears, my lord?” he cocked his hooded head carefully to one side, motioning to the other three.

“For all ears; I’m summoning the lot of them anyhow.”

“Lord Kenma’s training has progressed quite nicely under Lord Akaashi’s careful tutelage.”

“Will that pose a problem?” Daishou snapped.

“One pampered housecat barely learning how to swipe its claws versus seasoned soldiers trained from adolescence to kill without mercy?  I should think not, my lord.  Our greatest concerns always have been and ever will be the panther and the lion he keeps at his side.  And the lion is progressing at a rate that surpasses his lord’s.”

“I wouldn’t worry about the cub—that situation is already in hand.”  Daishou waved his hand listlessly.

“As you say, my lord.”

“Is that all you have to report?”

“Not all.  My scouting of the Fukurodani borders have yielded some fruit I think you’d find to your tastes.”  Oomizuki drew out several rolled parchments from inside his sleeve, passing them reverently into Daishou’s hands.  “There are more than a few suitable locations that would suit your purpose, and the kingdom is sprawling—you’ll have no shortage of privacy and space.” 

“Excccelent…” Daishou hissed as he passed the parchments to Kuguri with a grin.  “I shall review them with my guard.  Good work, Oomizuki.” 

The hooded figure bowed low, making to slink back into the shadows.

“Ah, but one last thing…” Daishou stopped him before he could make his exit.

“Yessss?”

“How fares the panther guardian specifically?”

“As well as can be expected.  He’s the very model of a perfect guardian.  And recently also, the very model of a discrete but passionate lover.”

“Lover?” Daishou repeated.

“It’s a common enough practice between rulers and their sworn protectors in other lands.  Though with seven to choose from for yourself, my lord, I would perhaps caution restraint on your part—“

“Watch your tongue!” Hiroo hissed, baring fangs. 

But the others chuckled along with Oomizuki, paying no heed to the jest made at their lord’s expense.  Even Daishou seemed to pay it no mind, distracted by other, more pressing thoughts. 

“You have my gratitude, Oomizuki.  Always a pleasure to hear how well my old friend Kuroo is faring.  You have my leave to go.”

As quietly as he came, the spy departed, and when the guards were certain that their number were once again quite alone, they spoke freely at last.

“Rising to his provocations, Hiroo?” Seguro’s forked tongue flickered playfully from between his fangs.  “No doubt he now suspects you of slithering into the sheets after our Lord to warm his bed.”

“And no doubt surprised that _your_ particular appearance could curry favor with our lord.” Kuguri added. 

Shame flashed across Hiroo’s features, and he bowed his head.  “My apologies, Lord Daishou, I did not mean to rouse any suspicions of indecency—“

“Peace, Hiroo.” Daishou drawled as they reached the meeting chambers.  “The rumors will spread more from your profuse apologies than by the wagging tongue of a rat from the shadows.”

They opened the doors to find the other four members of the Hydra already awaiting them.  They rose from their seats as Daishou entered and seated themselves again only after he did, at the head of a long, rectangular table of gleaming black onyx. 

Daishou’s slitted eyes flickered briefly across the faces of his assembled guard—the seven snakes of the Hydra: Hiroo, Kuguri, Seguro, Numai, Takachiho, Sakijima, Akama… Seven dedicated soldiers who swore their lives in service to him, each thinking himself a guardian in his own right—though the esteemed honor belonged only to two among their number.  Such deep and powerful magics could not be split so many ways, though Daishou had insisted upon finding a way.  He had always thought two guardians to be entirely insufficient, and public knowledge of their identities made them anything but effective. 

No, to properly ensure his own safety, Daishou Suguru had bonded himself to two of them in entirely separate rituals, then feigned as much with the other five.  No one except Daishou knew the two true guardians he kept at his side—not even the seven.  Those who weren’t only knew that two of the others were true, and the two who were well and truly bonded with their lord knew not the second partner to whom they were also bound.  Naturally, tey were forbidden from discussing the matter between them; any breach of that silence would be deemed treason, and Daishou had no patience for traitors.  Their collective name, the Hydra, was a name he let them choose for themselves as the tie that bound the seven to each other. 

But although he felt the need for seven altogether, he didn’t feel the need to have them _all_ accompany him _all_ the time.  Based on his moods and fancies, he rotated between them, sometimes having as few as one or as many as four on hand.

“Report.” He called out to the table. 

“Kuguri.  Codename: Morelia.  Active duty.”

“Hiroo.  Codename: Mamba.  Active duty.” 

“Seguro.  Codename: Atrox.  Active duty.”

“Numai.  Codename: Typus.  Nothing to report.”

“Sakijima.  Codename: Hannah.  Had a nice drink with a lovely lady the other night, but I won’t kiss and tell.”

“Akama.  Codename: Yamakagashi.  She wasn’t as lovely as he says; quite plain, actually.”

“Takachiho.  Codename: Naja.  Nothing to report but a headache from _these_ two.” 

Daishou rolled his eyes but otherwise paid the wisecracks no mind.  Truth be told, he appreciated the humor, otherwise he’d have appointed seven snakes all as dull and quiet as Kuguri.  Speaking of which…

“I’m rotating the guard.  Sakijima, switch with Kuguri, if you would.  And tell me all about that lovely lady later.”

“It’s a dull story if ever I’ve heard one, my lord.” Akama hummed, tapping his nails on the table. 

“A dull story will be preferable to the vow of silence Kuguri apparently keeps to,” Daishou shrugged, and Kuguri averted his gaze from the others.  “I concede he leads an overall uninteresting life, but would someone please verse him in some manner of small-talk?”

A chuckle rippled through the table, affecting all but Kuguri and Numai, who shared his inclination for silence above idle prattle.  Yet Kuguri’s silence was sourced from apathy; Numai’s from pragmatism.

“He need only serve as your guardian and protector, not as some jester to entertain you.  His skills should be in combat not in conversation.” Numai snapped, and the laughter died from the room.

Silently, they all watched carefully for Daishou’s reaction—would he take offense?  Laugh it off?  Numai more tan the others was prone to chastising their lord for behaviors he found frivolous.  Most times, Daishou took it in fair stride.  But once, it had earned Numai the scars that now adorned his right cheek—two faint lines that ran beneath his scales in parallel tracks. 

“Ever you serve to remind me, Numai, that variety is the spice of life—or else why would I keep you and Kuguri around?”  he smiled and all at the table visibly relaxed.  “As much as I appreciate the level-headed reason you afford me… I am to misbehave.” 

He motioned for Kuguri to lay out the parchments their shadow rat had provided, and soon they were all peering down at what appeared to be a series of maps. 

“These are maps of the Fukurodani territory…” Akama remarked.  “But the markings…?”

“Isolated locations away from the popularce,” Takachiho added, understanding.  “I suppose they’re not targets for attack of any sort.”

“Open war?  Don’t be ridiculous!” Numai scoffed.  “At what provocation?”

“It’s war.  Generally people don’t really need a reason to go to war.  No matter the cause or the goal, it’s all pointless bloodshed.”  Seguro shrugged. 

“What is all this for, my lord Daishou?  Surely you’re not planning on building a vacation home in any of these locations?” Sakijima questioned, tapping his finger atop one of the map markings.  Though a lodge in any one of the locations would be quaint, it wasn’t exactly Daishou’s style to take repose. 

“I plan on repaying an old debt,” Daishou whispered.  “I’ve nursed this festering wound for many years, and I intend to cut out the rot at last.  Make no mistake, what I intend to do is dishonorable, deceitful… It’ll poison my crown and tarnish my dynasty.  The seven of you are sworn to me, but this action is not for the kingdom, it is for myself alone.  I need to be sure of your allegiance before I proceed.” 

“This is about those blasted cats…” Numai muttered, his hand curling into a fist on the table.  “I’ve long told you to let that go—“

“You do not wear the crown, Numai, do not _ever_ presume you can tell me what to do,” Daishou flared, his forked tongue flickering.  “Even now they mock and ridicule me.” 

“Imagined slightsss!” Numai hissed back.  “Inflicted when we were all too young to know any better; what do children know of diplomacy?  For this childhood rivalry, one of my soldiers was executed!”

“He was executed for his failure, as was mine,” Sakijima interceded.  “They knew the price they would pay if they failed the coronation plot, and fail they did.  Or don’t you want to admit to having entirely inadequate men under your command?”

“Yours are as ‘inadequate’ as mine if we—“

“And I don’t deny it.  For the case of the one Hannah I lost, I don’t deny he was unequal to the task we gave him.  That is the responsibility I accept as his commanding officer, I will not deflect blame onto our liege as you insist.”  Sakijima smirked, narrowing his eyes at Numai, who had little response but to glare right back.

“Nekoma and Fukurodani have always looked down upon usss…” Akama hissed.  “While they tumble into each other’s beds, they scoff at our kingdom and the needs of our people.  The most recent trade agreement offered by their Magisters was practically theft!  They’re as prejudiced as the Lord they serve!” 

“We do what we can to get ahead, that’s our way.” Hiroo added quietly. 

“This isn’t getting ahead, this is getting back.  Revenge.  And for what?” Numai bit back, unyielding.  “Daishou, you’re obsessed.” 

“If that is your opinion of me, Numai, I’m happy to dismiss you.  Though you are my oldest friend in this room, if I do not have your loyalty, I cannot keep you.”  Daishou replied calmly

Numai stared incredulously back.  Dismiss him?!  The two of them knew that Numai was one of Daishou’s two true guardians—it would be near impossible to dismiss him short of executing him.  A bluff then?  To retain his allegiance?  Or… He could never have suspected Daishou’s hatred of Kuroo to run so deep, or that it could have taken hold of him so fiercely.  But what would a petty revenge plot achieve?  They’d be realized, and then open war would be upon them whether they planned for it or not. 

“If something happens to Lord Kenma, you’d be the first to fall under suspicion.”  Numai gave one last feeble attempt at reason.

“Not if we frame our feathered friends from Fukurodani.” Daishou wagged a finger almost playfully, then cast his hands over the maps on the table.  “When all the evidence of foul play points to the owls, how can anyone logically cast blame upon us?  Nekoma and Fukurodani’s alliance, while _intimate_ , is recent.  In my father’s time, it was _our_ kingdom that held greater favor with those fickle felines.”

“So your course is set.”  Numai muttered.

“You are either with me or against me, my friend.” 

Before the eyes of his Lord and the other six members of the Hydra, the guardian found his mighty resolve weakening—and in the end, he was but a loyal soldier.  He had sworn loyalty to Daishou Suguru since childhood to whatever end, even toward ruin.

“I’ve always stood with you.”

Daishou smiled, a long, cruel smile.  “I’m so glad to hear it.” 

* * *

 

His time spent at Fukurodani, while beneficial in honing his swordplay, had done much to dull Kenma’s enthusiasm for all formal matters of state.  Two weeks ago, he’d have thrown Kuroo out of his chambers for attempting to rouse him for morning training… Now, his body was itching for a good sweat as he found himself trapped in the Royal Office attending to every bureaucratic joy that accompanied his crown.  His Magisters had done what they could in his absence but for everything that demanded a royal seal.  Sighing into the stifling air of his office, Kenma rose from his seat to give his legs a stretch, wincing when he felt a sudden pain run down his arm that had nothing to do with signing parchments. 

Kuroo and Lev were training out on the grounds, likely sparring.  Kenma wondered who had just locked the other in an arm hold—probably Kuroo.  Lev was frequently caught by that move.  Peeking out of the windows at the bright afternoon sun—goodness, it made him lethargic—he let out another huff no one could hear.  The clock chimed in response to signal the hour, and Kenma counted the hours before the Magisters would return.  He had a couple hours of leeway there, and all work and no play made Kenma very _very_ agitated. 

Leaving the trade agreement with Nohebi aside—pages and pages of soporific figures and calculations, really—he snuck quietly out of his office and made his way toward the training grounds. 

He made it down the halls of the west wing without being seen at all, then practically flew down the stairs and across the atrium, jumping when he passed a group of maids at the corner.  They smiled and bowed as they walked past, and Kenma remembered suddenly: _I’m the Ruler.  I don’t need to sneak about in my own palace._ Certainly no plain palace staff member was going to stop him and drag him back to his paperwork.  Straightening his posture a bit, he turned the corridor that led out of the west wing and towards the southern training grounds, coming face-to-face with the amused general of his nation’s military.

“Sneaking off again?” Yaku smirked as he crossed his arms, cocking his head in the slightest of bows. 

“Does it look like I’m _sneaking_ around my own palace?” Kenma muttered unconvincingly. 

“If you’re going to check on Kuroo and Lev, I’ll go with you.  Lev asked to see me later anyhow.” 

Kenma raised an eyebrow as they began to walk in tandem.  “For what?” 

“He mentioned a personal favor—something about a visitor.” Yaku shrugged. 

“You and Lev are pretty close, aren’t you?”

“I could say the same thing about you and Kuroo.  But Lev was my top student for guardian candidacy.  I worry about him, which makes him think he can rely on me.”

“Can’t he?”

“Not too much, otherwise he’ll never become a proper guardian.  His mishaps feel like my own.  He was made a guardian at my recommendation; I don’t want him to be insufficient for your service.  He has a wealth of potential, it just… needs to be forced out of him is all.  Someday I hope you’ll be able to see in him what I do.”

“I’m not sure I could go _that_ far…” Kenma mused with a knowing smile.  “You’re very fond of him.”

“As I said, he was my top student—“

“Is that all?”

Yaku stopped short just before they reached the open space of the South quad, standing shoulders straight and eyes fixed ahead—like a soldier reporting for duty.  His medals gleamed on his chest as they caught the light, reminding Kenma of the great status Yaku held. 

“Even if it weren’t, that’s all it _can_ be.  That’s all it _has_ to be.” 

Then before Kenma could utter a rebuttal, Yaku was leading them outside and out to the sand pit, where Kuroo and Lev were circling each other slowly, looking for an opening within which to pounce. 

Kuroo’s every motion was slow and fluid, his eyes open wide and sharply locked on Lev, who had a similar focus in his gaze, though his tail twitched in agitation behind him.  The lion feinted a dive, moving rapidly to the side before taking a massive leap forward, knocking Kuroo onto his back on the sands.  But even with the wind knocked out of him, his reflexes were not easily bested; he scrambled free of Lev’s hold within seconds, and might’ve lunged a counter if Lev hadn’t relaxed his stance entirely at the sight of their approaching audience. 

“General Yaku!  Lord Kenma!”

“I see we came at a good time—just as you were starting to look cool!” Yaku teased as Lev bounded over to him like an overexcited puppy. 

“I have plenty of cool moments!” Lev huffed, and Kuroo groaned as he shook the sand out of his hair. 

“He’s not wrong—he’s had me on the defensive for the better part of the afternoon—after he got warmed up anyway.” 

Kenma moved over to his darker guardian, dusting his shoulders before stealing a quick peck from his lips—Yaku and Lev were distracted enough so as not to see. 

“So Lev had you at a disadvantage?” Kenma teased before Kuroo could protest the gesture. 

“I’ll be damned,” Yaku grinned, punching Lev affectionately on the arm.  “Finally decided to show us some of what you’re capable of?”

“Or maybe I’m just having an off-day,” Kuroo smirked, rolling his shoulder to stretch out the tension.  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” 

“Or you don’t want to admit Lev is getting stronger than you?” Kenma teased.

“Please!  I’m still the best guardian around!” Kuroo huffed defensively, crossing his arms.  “And you?  I thought the Magisters had you locked up in the office for paperwork?”

“Ah…” the little lord’s eyes began to wander.

“You didn’t finish it, did you?”

“I’m almost done…” Kenma mumbled.

“Oh don’t pick on Kenma just because you’re embarrassed to be caught at a bad time,” Yaku chided with an old familiarity.  

“And what duties are _you_ shirking, _General_?  To defend our Lord’s tomfoolery?”  Kuroo asked with a smirk, an old rivalry sparking. 

“None at all—I’ve completed all my day’s obligations.”

“You have?” Lev perked.  “So… you can come with me now then?”

“And who said _you_ were going anywhere?  We’re still training, cub.” Kuroo snapped.

“Eh?!  We’ve been training since dawn!” Lev whined, his wails growing sharply louder as Kuroo gripped his cheek tightly and pulled.  “Ow ow ow owww!”

“Oh, let him go,” Kenma sighed, grimacing at the tingle on his own cheek.  “You have to take a break sometime.”

“Do I…” Lev fidgeted, nursing his sore cheek.  “ _May_ I have your leave to go home tonight, my lord?  I’ll return first thing in the morning.”

Kenma shrugged, but Kuroo narrowed his eyes disapprovingly.

“You’ve been spending quite a few nights at home lately, what’s going on?  You know as guardian you should be away from your lord as little as possible.  Has someone in your family taken ill?”

“Calm down, Kuro,” Kenma whispered, laying a gentle hand on the panther’s arm.  “It’s not as if he’s leaving me unattended.  Didn’t you just boast to being the best guardian around?” 

“A guardian is a guardian; these aren’t responsibilities we can take a vacation from, no more than you.  It’s a state of being, not a job with clock-out hours.” 

“And I am fortunate to have such unwavering devotion from you,” Kenma murmured softly, doing his best to pacify his great panther.  “But it’s a lot to ask, and Lev has a family and a home he misses.  I’m not in any immediate danger, I’m going to allow it.  Besides, he has a prior engagement with the General; I’m sure it’s not _all_ leisure, whatever he’s up to tonight.”  He winked at Yaku over his shoulder as Kuroo seemed to stop bristling with indignation.

“It’s one night, not a week,” Yaku proffered.  “When did you get more strict than me?”

Yaku had fond memories of Kuroo sneaking rations and extra pillows when they had both been cadets.  Almost all of their dalliances in those days had been Kuroo’s mischief, but that didn’t mean he was truly surprised by the seriousness he now displayed for his duties as guardian.  He had always shown a particular dedication to Kenma, Had Kenma not been chosen as Ruler, Yaku had always suspected Kuroo would have become General himself, if not the very Ruler of the land. 

Kuroo sighed, obviously defeated on all fronts.  “It’s not my call; if Kenma says he’s fine to go for the night, even I can’t stop him.  Just report in by the morning meal, all right?”

“You can depend upon it!”

Then Lev grabbed the General somewhat unceremoniously around the wrist, and the two whisked away into the evening leaving an amused Kenma and a somewhat disgruntled Kuroo. 

“You’re too easy on him,” Kuroo sighed.  “Especially after your coronation incident, Lev—you _both_ should understand how important it is that he stay by your side.  I can’t condone him regularly returning home or spending nights away from the palace.” 

“We’re not going anywhere, and we aren’t playing host to any guests.  It’s peacetime, and I’m safe inside the palace with you and all the other guards.  Just think of it as a chance for us to be alone together.” Quietly Kenma, slipped his fingers into Kuroo’s. 

“I’m still going to have a talk with him tomorrow,” Kuroo grunted, but still his features softened as he turned to face his liege.  “Where are the Magisters?”

“Meeting with delegates by the harbor—I forgot what for, but they shouldn’t return for a couple more hours.” 

“You didn’t… _ask_ … for Yaku to take Lev away for the night, did you?”

Kenma rolled his eyes at the implications.  “I don’t have time to play matchmaker as such.”

“Matchmaker?”

“Although I’m curious to see how they might develop.  If they do.”

“You mean… Yaku… and… Lev?” Kuroo scoffed.  “I don’t see it.  Yaku’s always been more uptight than even me, and Lev’s head is in the clouds most of the time, I don’t think he has any interest in that.”

“You thought _I_ didn’t have any interest in romance either.” 

“You’re in my blind spot.” 

“You mean here?” Kenma side-stepped so he was standing behind Kuroo, quite nicely shaded from the late afternoon sun.  He grinned as he side-stepped again just as Kuroo turned, like a cat chasing his own tail. 

“Would you—get—get back here!”

They spun around each other for a few seconds before Kuroo finally wrapped his tail around Kenma’s waist to hold him relatively in place.  Kuroo smirked as he planted a victory kiss on Kenma’s forehead once he finally managed to face him. 

“Got you.”

“You got me.” Kenma smiled. 

“Now back to your paperwork.”

Kenma groaned.  Kuroo really was too strict, even if he had a soft spot for Kenma.  It wasn’t enough of a soft spot to allow for any truancy from his royal duties. 

“I’ll keep you company, don’t whine.  But I’m not going to let Magister Naoi scold me for being lenient with both Lev _and_ you.” 

“You should’ve been chosen for Ruler,” Kenma grumbled as Kuroo lightly pushed him along back into the palace.  “You’d be better at the job than me.”

“Hm, if I had been chosen, would you have become my guardian instead?” Kuroo grinned at the thought. 

“Sure.  And I’ll then go down as the weakest guardian the kingdom had ever seen in its long and fabled history.”  Kenma drawled, thinking of his pithy skills at swordplay. 

“But definitely the prettiest.”

Kenma flushed and shoved Kuroo lightly as they walked, their tails curling gently together behind them.

* * *

 

He had hoped, dared to hope, that if he turned up his charms, maybe Kuroo would allow him leniency and not actually force him to sit in his office reviewing a never-ending series of laws, letters, edicts, bills, contracts, etc… Kuroo meanwhile, sat in one of the plush chairs beside his desk, reading some book of classic literature or other.  And no matter how many glares Kenma shot his way, the guardian remained frustratingly nonplussed and never once looked up from his text, though surely he could feel the daggers of Kenma’s gaze. 

Some trace sense of responsibility encouraged Kenma to complete roughly another half-hour of work, but after that, he began to tap his foot impatiently.  A rare opportunity to be alone together, and Kuroo insisted on sitting idly by with a book?  Kenma crumpled up a spare bit of parchment and chucked it at his head.  It bounced straight off the spikes of his unruly hair, but it certainly got his attention.

“Now, that’s not kingly behavior…” Kuroo tsked, picking up the crumpled paper but keeping his eyes steadfastly on his book. 

“Can’t a sovereign do whatever he pleases?” Kenma challenged. 

“Philosophically speaking, anyone can do whatever he or she pleases,” Kuroo quipped, turning a page carefully and letting the corners of his lips flick upward. 

“Fine.  In that case, I’m tired, and I want to do something else.”  Kenma whined quietly, rising from his chair and moving to stand in front of his unmoved guardian.  “Kuro.”

His quiet command finally forced the panther to meet his eyes, his amusement plain as day.

“Yes, my lord?”

“I told you not to call me that when we’re alone.”

Kenma’s fingers reached out slowly, gently took the book from Kuroo’s hands, then tossed it carelessly to the ground.

“You shouldn’t mistreat a book like that,” Kuroo scolded half-heartedly, his eyes now fixed firmly on Kenma as the little lord slipped his arms into Kuroo’s shoulders and brought their bodies ever closer.

“It deserved it.”

“How does a book deserve—“

“It distracted you.  From me.” 

His lips pressed softly against Kuroo’s, subtle and sweet.  Just a taste.  When Kuroo leaned up for more, Kenma’s fingers traced their way from his shoulders, up his neck, running gently along his jaw before tangling into his hair.  He pulled sharply on a fistful of the coarse black strands.  Kuroo snapped his head back and gasped, a delicious moan scarce escaping his lips before Kenma swallowed it down for himself, their lips smashing together.

Kuroo felt Kenma’s weight drop gently onto his thighs, their bodies now flush and warming each other.  Every pleased sound that bubbled up his throat Kenma took with his lips and tongue, tasting and devouring before offering his own array of moans and whimpers for Kuroo to consume.  His hands found Kenma’s hips, his waist, the small of his back, the dip between his shoulder blades… his fingers gripped and pressed, leaving fleeting indentations across Kenma’s skin as they roamed, and each new territory brought a delightful new discovery.  Hands on hips made Kenma roll them, eager for friction, light touches across the small of his back made his thighs quiver with want.  A firm hold on his waist slowed him a touch and made his mouth go gentle, wanting to savor; but a strong palm between his shoulders made him nibble and nip and press their bodies closer. 

Suddenly, the bell chimed from the clock in the room, and the two pulled apart with a startled gasp, eyes flying immediately toward the door.  When the chimes stopped, they relaxed a touch, Kuroo letting out a long, nervous exhale, Kenma evaluating the time and counting the minutes left to them.

Kissing was fun, they didn’t do enough of it, but they weren’t exactly afforded the luxury of time.  Kenma scrambled off Kuroo’s lap and returned to his desk, rummaging through his top drawers.  Kuroo took to pacing the room, attempting to fix his tousled hair in vain. 

“When did you say they’d be back?”

Kenma’s eyes flashed only momentarily to the clock.  “Soon.  Ish.”

The guardian let out what sounded like a disappointed sigh, but Kenma had found his prize, thrown to the back of his right desk drawer, camouflaged between bottles of ink. 

He placed the small vial atop his desk, then unclipped his belt.  The clattering of it falling unceremoniously to the floor brought Kuroo’s attention immediately back to him.

“What are you doing?  You said they’d be back soon.”  Kuroo whispered, suddenly all hushed tones and secrecy. 

“We still have time,” Kenma shrugged, curling his finger to beckon Kuroo over to him.  “Come sit in my chair.”

“How soon is soon, and how much time do we still have?” Kuroo asked warily, though he still let Kenma pull him into the lush desk chair.  Quite comfortable. 

“You worry too much,” Kenma grumbled, pushing Kuroo to sit, then immediately situated himself between his legs, working to undo Kuroo’s fastenings and free his straining arousal.  “Just focus on me.”

Kenma didn’t have to have his mouth on his cock to monopolize his attention—Kuroo was usually thinking about in some small way at any given time, but he wasn’t going to object to the gesture.  He moaned low as Kenma’s warm, wet tongue swept over the head of his length—stars, he was leaking already.  Their time at Fukurodani had spoiled them with the opportunities for regular lovemaking, and since their return, Kuroo had been doing his best to keep his desires in check.  And judging by the hungry way Kenma took him into his mouth, they were both pent-up. 

“Ahh… Hngh… K-Kenma…”

Maybe Kuroo was imagining it, maybe it had just been longer than he realized, but Kenma’s mouth was driving him absolutely wild, and he suspected a modicum of improvement in his technique.  The insistent pressure of his tongue on the underside of his length, the little moans that reverberated around his flesh and shot pleasure straight through his spine… But when Kenma took a few careful inhales through his nose then took him in deep, the tip pressing against the back of his throat… and then deeper than that… Kuroo hissed and gripped the arms of the chair until his knuckles grew white, fighting every urge to thrust forward into that welcoming heat. 

“Sh-shit… Ahnn… Hah…”

He opened his eyes to take a proper look and nearly came from the sight.  Kenma with his swollen pink lips clamped firmly around his cock, eyes half-lidded and glazed with need… Beyond that, he was working his own fingers in and out of himself, hips rolling tantalizingly just above the floor.  His tail was wrapped around his waist, twitching.

“K-Kenma…”

Kenma just gave a moan in reply before pulling his head back and releasing Kuroo’s length with a gasp, a trickle of saliva trailing down his chin.

“K-Kuro…” he panted, voice hoarse and low. 

Leaning forward, Kuroo brought their lips together for a wet, sloppy kiss.  He licked at Kenma’s chin and trailed kisses along his jaw, up to his brow, his forehead, then he grabbed Kenma’s shoulders gently, pulling him up off the floor.  He tried to pull him into his lap, but Kenma pushed his hands away, pulling his suit off his shoulders so that he stood bare before him save for his half-rolled stockings. 

Kuroo reached for him again once he had fully undressed, but Kenma turned his back to him, slowly leaning over the desk, his tail swaying from side to side as he arched his back and spread his legs.

“Kuro… hurry…”

“Standing up?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow.

But Kenma just ran the soft fur of his tail across Kuroo’s face, urging him up and out of his chair.  He gasped as he felt Kuroo’s hands caress his skin from his backside to his hips, up his sides and then back down again, squeezing his cheeks and spreading them.

“H-hurry…” Kenma groaned impatiently. 

Fumbling for the vial Kenma had left on the floor, Kuroo quickly made himself slick and positioned himself at Kenma’s entrance, spreading his legs and bending his knees.  As he slowly pushed in, Kenma fell forward, his hands scrambling across his desk, scattering and crinkling various papers.

“Ahhnnn…” Kenma keened, his hands curling into fists.

“Aren’t those important?” Kuroo teased, though his own voice was similarly strained. 

Before Kenma could answer, he thrust forward to bury the last couple inches of himself inside Kenma’s warmth, then stilled, both of them panting raggedly in the empty office.  Kenma shivered beneath him, and Kuroo rubbed slow circles into his hips with his thumbs. 

“You all right?”

“Mmph… Mm… f-fine…  Move already.” 

Kuroo chuckled.  “Always in such a hurry.” 

His first thrust had Kenma moaning at a dangerous volume and crumpling a stack of papers in his fist, the next had him knocking over his quills and scattering them across the desk and onto the floor. 

“Hey…” Kuroo leaned forward, cooing into Kenma’s ear and nipping it gently.  “You’re making a mess.”

“Ngh…” came the rather poetic reply.  “More…”

It was one thing to shred the sheets on Kenma’s bed, but another matter entirely to mangle a series of important state documents.  Reaching for Kenma’s fists, Kuroo gently uncurled the fingers to allow the papers to fall out of his hands, then laced his own fingers into them.  “Let’s be a touch more careful, hm?”

Kuroo moved his hips carefully then, thrusting with a slow and steady rhythm, though he tried to compensate for the lack of speed with a more precise angle.  The way Kenma’s fingers dug into his own, claws threatening to pierce through his skin were evidence of his admirable aim.  But it didn’t take long before Kenma was thrusting back against him, his own awkward rhythm shaking the desk and scattering further documents.

“F-faster, Kuro…” Kenma panted.

Again Kuroo tried to steady the pace to a manageable rhythm, and Kenma groaned in frustration, looking over his shoulder with a scowl.

“Harder.” He growled, eyes narrowing.  For goodness’ sake, they were haphazardly stripped in his unlocked office, bent over his desk, what need was there now for tenderness?  Kenma wanted quick and dirty and fast.  He wanted Kuroo to ram him against the desk so hard it’d make the wood groan from the effort to hold them up. 

“You minx…”

“Calico,” Kenma corrected.  “Come on, Kuro… let loose on me.” 

Kuroo frowned, contemplating as he ran his thumb across Kenma’s swollen bottom lip.  “You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” Kenma swallowed, letting his tongue flick across Kuroo’s thumb.  “I’ll order you if I have to.” 

Not necessary, he found out.  Taking the hint at last, Kuroo grabbed Kenma’s wrists and pulled them toward him so that Kenma’s arms were held firmly behind him, his chest now laying firmly on the top of the desk and supporting the bulk of his weight.  Kuroo was pulling his arms further back, lifting his shoulders up and helping to counterbalance the gravity that pushed Kenma down and forward onto the desk. 

And then he ‘let loose’ just as Kenma had instructed, pounding into Kenma’s warmth with a ferocity he rarely exhibited, rattling the desk beneath them with his thrusts. 

“Ah!  Ahh!  K-Kuro!  Hah…”

There was a rushing in Kuroo’s ears and he couldn’t tell which was louder: Kenma’s moans, the creaking of the wood beneath them, or the claps from when his hips slapped against Kenma’s ass.  Surely, if anyone were to walk by outside the door they’d hear them, come rushing in, believing their lord to be in distress or danger.  In their frenzy they had forgotten to even lock the door; the entire situation was precarious.  He thought of covering Kenma’s mouth to stifle his increasing volume, but that sweet voice was only encouraging him to go faster. 

“Sh-shit!” 

Pulling on Kenma’s wrists, Kuroo pulled his lord to a nearly standing position, running his hands across Kenma’s stomach and chest, holding their bodies flush as he licked and nipped at his neck.  His paused his frantic pace for a slow, teasing roll of his hips, and Kenma whimpered, arching his back and leaning into the scrape of Kuroo’s teeth against his flesh. 

“K-Kuro… Hnngh…”  He had been so close too. 

“Ngh…” Kuroo moaned into Kenma’s neck, one hand trailing down Kenma’s front to take his cock into his hands. 

“Ah!” Kenma’s hips jerked forward into Kuroo’s touch.  “Hah… hah… ahh…”

Kuroo’s fingers were running over the slit, slicking the rest of his length with his leaking fluids, pumping him firm and slow.  It was sending his head into a tizzy; he couldn’t quite see straight, but he had enough presence of mind to reach behind him and pull at Kuroo’s hips, demanding that the fucking resume.  He was all for coming now, but he wanted to do it with the feeling of Kuroo moving inside him, stretching his hole and using him nice and plenty. 

“K-Kuro… m-move…”

“I’m… hah… I’m really close…” Kuroo murmured breathlessly against his cheek, clinging to Kenma. 

“Me too…” 

Kuroo gave Kenma’s cock a languid squeeze, teasing, “You don’t want to come all over your paperwork.” 

Admittedly, it would be difficult to explain how and why various papers were soiled or missing if they lost their heads too far in the moment.  Kenma pushed his hips back against Kuroo, pushing the both of them away from the desk and into his chair.  Slowly, Kuroo sat down into it, keeping Kenma’s hips flush against his and his cock safely tucked inside.  Bracing his hands on the arm-rests, Kenma began to lift himself up and down, riding Kuroo.  Slowly at first, but once he found his angle and rhythm, he moved his hips furiously, his keening cries filling the air again as Kuroo pumped him to his finish, keeping Kenma’s release contained against his own stomach and coating his fingers. 

“Ah…” Kenma wheezed, his body racked with spasms as he fell back against Kuroo, resting his weight against the guardian’s chest.  Kuroo turned Kenma’s cheek to bring their lips together, and Kenma whispered against them softly, “Not yet…” 

Sensitive and maybe even a little sore, Kenma pushed his hips down into Kuroo’s lap, circling them slowly.  He licked his lip to hear Kuroo hiss and moan at the gesture, and then he felt it: a burst of warmth inside him, filling him… Kuroo was clinging to him so tight, he wondered if his skin would bruise—he almost hoped so.  The thought of Kuroo marking him had always been very appealing, but the guardian took great care to not leave any evidence of their excursions. 

Kenma’s tail swayed happily between them, tickling Kuroo’s chin, and the guardian sighed. 

“I was trying to avoid this, you know… I was attempting self-control.” 

“I don’t know why you bother,” Kenma murmured, turning his head to nuzzle Kuroo’s cheek.  “I’m always trying to encourage less control from you.” 

“Of this, I am aware.”

“And you live to indulge me.”

“That’s not quite—“

The sudden sound of footsteps out in the hall jolted them both back to reality, and they stilled, ice in their veins.  Kenma braced himself to duck straight under his desk, and Kuroo was trying to calculate how many steps it would take for him to run to the door to bolt it.  Three, maybe four bounds?  But before that he had to get Kenma off his lap and hidden…

The footsteps receded and they both sighed, relieving what felt like years of tension. 

“I feel I’ve just lost five years of my life,” Kuroo groaned.  “We should never do this again.” 

“At least not here, maybe…” Kenma muttered as he slowly lifted himself up, feeling Kuroo’s release trickling out from between his legs.  Hopefully no one would look too closely at his stockings.  “But there are surely rooms in the palace the Magisters don’t frequent.” 

“Other rooms—you don’t mean for us to continue these daring trysts?!  Your bedroom is dangerous enough, let alone some exposed romp about the grounds.” 

“I was curious to try it,” Kenma hummed as he used a tissue to clean himself as best he could for the moment, then pulling on his clothes.  “And my curiosity’s not yet sated.”

“There’s a saying about cats and curiosity I won’t repeat.”

“Then I won’t give voice to the saying regarding cats and the number of lives we’re fabled to possess.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, and thanks to all those who encouraged me to continue writing for this AU. Feel free to ask me questions about world-building details, if you're curious to hear more about how Nohebi is structured, I'm happy to explain! But I'm not gonna give away any plot spoilers now~
> 
> \--
> 
> Tumblr: nimbus-cloud  
> Twitter: @Luna_Dreaming


	5. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Certain relationships grow deeper, others grow deeply strained, and Lev begins to question his life choices.

“Welcome back, Master Lev!  And—oh, you’ve brought a visitor.”  Edgar gave a profusely deep bow before taking their travel cloaks from them and leading them inside. 

“Allow me to introduce… My instructor from the Academy, General Yaku.”  Lev beamed, gesturing beside him.

“Goodness, the very General himself—it is an honor to receive you, General Yaku.”

“Ah… please, there’s no need to be so formal…” Yaku stammered.  Years spent at court had done little to acclimate him to the ways of nobles and their families—even with his esteemed rank, Yaku still thought himself a soldier through and through. 

“Where is the Lady Mika?” Lev asked eagerly.

“I believe she’s out in the gardens—she’s quite fond of the late summer blossoms.” Edgar smiled.  “If you’ve no urgent need for me, I’d like to run down to the kitchens and let the chef know to prep dinner for three.” 

“Thank you, Edgar.  I’m sorry I never give you enough advanced notice.”  Lev nodded, and Yaku beside him gave an awkward jerk of his head. 

“Lady… Mika?” Yaku repeated once Edgar had gone.  To his knowledge, Lev only had the one sister, Alisa.  Mika was a cousin, perhaps?

“She’s an old acquaintance of my sister’s, and was once a part of the royal court—I don’t know if you would have any memory of her—I barely do, in fact.  But she’s returned from moving abroad—no, out in the country?  She was in need of a place to stay for the time being so she called upon us—but my family is currently traveling abroad.  I’ve agreed to let her stay here, but I’m afraid I can’t exactly tend to her with my position.  I was wondering if… you could spare the time, General?”

“Lev, I may not be a guardian, but even my days aren’t exactly free; I have my own duties to attend to!” Yaku chided, though he could appreciate the care he gave for a guest of his household. 

“But you’ve more flexibility than myself, in any case!” Lev pleaded.  “I don’t mean for you to accompany her all day every day, but you’ve more time to spare—if you could just check in on her every once in a while…”

Yaku sighed.  “An old acquaintance you said?”  He had not spent his youth in the royal court as he didn’t come from a high-ranking noble family, so it came as no surprise that he could not recall anyone named Mika. 

“Of my sister—really, you’d be doing her the favor more than me!” 

Yaku sighed again, furrowing his brows and cursing himself for being so fond of them both. 

“I cannot make any promises, nor can I commit to any lengthy amount of time, but… I shall try to avail myself to the Lady in your absence…”

“I can’t thank you enough for that!” Lev brightened, and it seemed to Yaku that the very grounds grew more luminous, despite the setting sun.

They found the Lady Mika admiring the asters on the far northeast side of the gardens, the blues of the blooms complementing her pale lilac dress.  Yaku did not fail to notice the star-struck look in Lev’s eyes when he looked her way, nor did he miss the newfound spring in his step, the sudden boyish tenor to his voice. 

“Lady Mika!”

“Oh, Lev!  I had hoped to see you this evening!  And who is…?”

“Ah, allow me to introduce General Yaku Morisuke, the high commander of Nekoma’s armed forces, and my former instructor.” 

“The General!” she gasped, before lowering herself into a curtsy, folding even her ears in deference.  “It is an honor…”

“And a… a pleasure to make your acquaintance, milady,” Yaku bowed stiffly. 

“I’ve asked the good General to avail himself to you in my stead when he can, since my time is not my own.”

“Oh, that’s… that’s very kind, but… surely the General has more pressing calls upon his time?”

“I can… only be more of service than Lev, but… not terribly more so,” Yaku clarified.  “So that you have at least one other person you can rely upon, and so that some of Lev’s worries can be eased.” 

“Well, that’s…” Mika fidgeted with the folds of her skirt, clearly a bit uncomfortable with the arrangements made without her consent.  “Well, I shan’t refuse the kindness offered for that would make me seem an ungrateful wretch.  I thank you both for the care and courtesy you’ve extended to me.” 

“I’m glad our gardens please you,” Lev noted as soon as the pleasantries were exchanged.  “I can’t tell any of the blossoms apart which aren’t roses, but Alisa has a love of them.” 

“The colors are so striking,” she agreed, turning to run her fingers gently across some of the petals.  “The sunset makes them more so.  I think the blue would match your silvery mane quite handsomely!”

“To see a guardian walk about with a flower in his hair,” Yaku chuckled.  “Kuroo would never let you live it down, I think.” 

“Kuroo…” Mika repeated.  “I remember him only vaguely… mostly wild, black hair… does he remain at court still?”

“He’s our Ruler’s other guardian along with myself.  Though, I suppose he’s the prime while I’m… quite secondary.” Lev admitted bashfully. 

“Guardian does fit the image I have of Kuroo…” she mumbled.  “Though I am sure you stand equal to him, Lev.  In every aspect.  Don’t put yourself down so.” 

“To not know our nation’s esteemed guardians, you must have been quite far removed,” Yaku noted curiously.  “Where did you say you came from?”

“Originally here in the Capitol.  But my family had a wish for a… quieter life.  We’ve spent many years out in the country and traveling other lands.  I’ve much to rediscover on the subject of domestic affairs.”  She smiled.  And it was quite a charming smile.  But wasted on the short-statured General. 

“Where in the country?” Yaku pressed. 

“Does it really make a difference?” she answered, still smiling.  “It’s all the same dreary dullness, is it not?”

“The General struggles with pleasantries,” Lev intervened.  “His every curious question sounds like an interrogation, does it not?”  Lev laughed, but the tension remained between his two guests.  “Shall we take a stroll before turning in for dinner?  It’s the General’s first visit to our estate, I think I’d like to show him more of it.”

“That sounds lovely,” Mika beamed, slipping her arm around Lev’s casually and drawing herself close.

It made Yaku terribly uneasy, the gesture, even the Lady herself… But he could not tell if it was his soldier’s instinct or a more petty notion gnawing in a corner of his mind.  He told himself it was simply worry; he was always concerned for Lev and the things he got up to.  Yet what was the concern here exactly?  That the young cub might fall in love?  That wasn’t so terrible a thing.  Shouldn’t he encourage him?  What was the terror in a tryst between youth?  _Nothing_ , he told himself.  _Nothing at all._   And yet, he couldn’t shake the apprehension from his heart. 

 _Perhaps it’s because I know nothing myself of love,_ he thought sullenly as he stepped beside them, needing three paces to match every two of Lev’s.  _For once, I can offer the great oaf no assistance._

“I should like to have gardens as grand as these in a future home of mine,” Mika sighed wistfully.  “What a shame for Alisa to leave these once she’s married…”

“Oh, she’ll have no need to leave,” Lev assured her.  “The estate will pass to her when the time comes, she’s free to stay as long as she likes.” 

“Alisa will inherit all this?  Not you?”

“She is still the firstborn.  Moreover, I’m a guardian.  I’m sworn for life in service to the crown; my life is bound to Lord Kenma, I do not have the freedom to seek my own fortune or perpetuate my family’s name.” 

“How lonely that must be…” Mika said softly.

“It is an honor beyond compare.” Yaku corrected. 

“An honor it may be, General, but that does not preclude loneliness.” She replied deftly.  “It’s a position of great personal sacrifice, and that loss must be keenly felt by many.  Even if Lev has marvelously put himself to the task, I know his family must miss their son; surely Alisa misses her baby brother.” 

Lev coughed nervously, ears twitching.

“I see Alisa often enough at court; she has little time to miss me.”

“Well that is a small blessing.  Still, do you never feel any misgivings about the path you’ve chosen?” 

“Even if he did, it’s too late to turn away from it now,” Yaku cut in coldly, glad his folded ears could give no indication of his irritation.  “Best not to think such thoughts, Lev.”

“A pragmatic answer as can be expected from a man of your great position,” Mika snapped.  “But do not forbid the lion his thoughts and feelings… it seems to me they are all he has left.” 

“Please, General.  It was an innocent question.”  Lev was starting to feel quite uncomfortable between the two—he had rather hoped they would get along better than this.  “Mika—milady—you mustn’t be so concerned.  Of course, I have days where I wonder if being a guardian was the right decision for _everyone_ involved.  I confess there are days I feel quite unworthy of the post, and I still have much to learn, in all aspects.  But I do feel a great pride… and I am fond of the Lord I serve.  I feel what I’ve gained greatly outweighs any losses.”

Yaku found himself smiling at Lev’s rather diplomatic response—more maturity than he had ever expected.

“But what of love?” Mika pressed.  “Aren’t you forbidden to marry?”

“Ah, that’s…” Lev flushed. 

“They are not expressly _forbidden_ to marry,” Yaku supplemented, growing quickly agitated with this disruptive line of inquiry.  “There are guardians in our history who have done so, it’s just… such relations become difficult to maintain and loyalties are sorely tested over time.  Not many are understanding of a guardian’s first duty to his sovereign and to his country… Any family, any children must always wait in the wings, must always step aside for duty and honor.” 

“And thus, those who rise to the post assume they are the better for it to not pursue love at all,” Mika concluded, nodding her head solemnly.

“As I said, there are not many who can be understanding of the great duties a guardian bears.” Yaku reiterated, almost accusingly. 

“Yet there are ways to serve without having to bear such great sacrifice,” Mika mused.  “As _you_ do, General.”

Yaku visibly bristled, but bit his tongue to keep from speaking too quickly or too harshly against Lev’s guest.  He would not have it said he lost his temper with a lady.  “Indeed.  I have no true understanding of the weight of the responsibilities Lev must bear.  But I know what a grand service he’s committed himself to, and I know that I feel much pride in him.” 

Mika seemed to find that answer satisfactory, or perhaps she was simply content to let the matter lie, for she changed the topic most readily after that, speaking instead of the sights and sounds she had seen while exploring the Capitol during her days.  She and Lev chattered animatedly of the mouth-watering confectionaries at Maru’s, the beautiful sunset colors seen from the Bay, the bright, glittering shops in Marie square… Even all throughout dinner they chattered and laughed, and Yaku felt for the first time in all his life that he didn’t see enough of the kingdom he worked so hard to protect. 

In the late evening, as Lev saw him off the estate in a carriage and the two had a moment alone, Yaku spoke quiet words to his student. 

“I’ve no doubt you’re fond of the Lady, but do keep her at a safe distance.”

“Are you warning me against love, General?”

“…do you think yourself in love?” Yaku asked, heart in his throat.

“I can’t rightly say…” Lev muttered.  “But as you said, I know I’m fond of her.” 

“I just don’t wish to see you conflicted, Lev.  Do not make things more complicated for yourself.”  Yaku pleaded, feeling his influence as mentor and confidant fast fading. 

“That is your way isn’t it, General?”  You avoid complications however possible.  Always.” 

“I know my duty,” Yaku bit back.

“And I mine.”

Lev signaled to the driver as he backed away from the carriage, bowing his head stiffly.  “Good night, General Yaku.”

The lion turned away before Yaku could return the sentiment, marching straight to his father’s drawing room and throwing himself into one of the plush armchairs.  The fire was neatly crackling, and Lev found himself staring long into the flames before a soft voice jostled him from his jumbled thoughts. 

“I fear I’ve left a very bad impression on your dear General.” 

“Lady Mika…”

“I’ve asked Edgar to bring us some tea.”  She took a seat in a chair across from him, folding her hands neatly across her lap.

“Thank you…”

“I must have seemed terribly disrespectful—I fear it’s the result of being away from civilized people so long—but I am quite used to speaking my mind.”

“I don’t mind that,” Lev smiled.  “The General is prickly to most who meet him, and he worries for me.”

“Worries for you?  I should think you’re quite capable of looking after yourself.  Do you not outrank him now?”

“He was my teacher.  I could never think myself above him.  Except in height.”

A giggle rippled through them both, warming the room. 

“I’m sure you already understand,” Mika said with a sad smile.  “How people might say entirely conflicting things out of concern for someone’s well-being.  The General is saying what he thinks is best, I know, as am I, but… it is _your_ life, Lev.  Even in service.  I hope you can seize what few opportunities you can that are for your personal benefit.”

Lev nodded quietly, his gaze returning to the flickering flames.  Several moments of silence passed between them, and Edgar came and went with a tray of warm, herbal tea. 

“Will you… tell me about the palace?”  Mika ventured, wanting to pull Lev from his depressing thoughts.  “I don’t believe I’ll ever have invitation to go, but it does look grand from the Bay.  I should love to hear about it.” 

“You mean to distract me,” Lev smiled.  “But I welcome it.  I’ll tell you all you’d like to know.”

* * *

 

Paperwork might be mind-numbingly dull, but still Kenma thought he preferred it to the weekly council meeting.  The staleness of desk routine, while grating in its own way, meant an absence of major problems or issues.  The weekly meetings meant _only_ problems, problems that required long discussions, problems that usually resulted in hours of circumlocution until a meager proposal could be struck to slap a band-aid on the wound. 

Even Lev and Kuroo were made to attend them, though they served as little more than decorative statues by the door.  Kenma could see Lev spacing out and envied him for it. 

“I’m afraid Nohebi continues to insist upon a face-to-face meeting with your lordship to discuss the ‘unsatisfactory’ terms of our trade agreement.” Magister Naoi reiterated stiffly.

“This is the agreement you brokered in my absence,” Kenma sighed.  “Did you offer unfair terms?”

“They’ve no grounds to ask for more.  The renewal of the previous Ruler’s agreement does not benefit our kingdom now.  Therefore, we’ve amended the terms to better suit our needs as any kingdom would.  This agreement is not meant to be a charitable gesture, we need must profit from it as well.”  Naoi sniffed dismissively.

“But no matter how we amend them, they are displeased, and Lord Daishou pushes and pushes for an audience.” Nekomata added, ever the amused smile playing on his features.

“Absolutely out of the question,” Yaku scoffed, crossing his arms atop the table.  “After the coronation incident, I wouldn’t trust any snake to take one scaly step into our borders.” 

“Take care not to sound too prejudicial, General.  In the end, we’ve no proof Daishou ordered those men to do what they did, and they _did_ execute the men we apprehended and extradited.” Nekomata reminded them all, not that he himself seemed convinced of Nohebi’s good will.

“Meaning what?  They are a conniving, cold-blooded people.  There have long been rumors that Daishou Suguru usurped his father’s throne.  Can we truly trust that there is good will in that bloody gesture?”

“Politics cannot be determined by hearsay, General,” Naoi stated firmly. 

“No,” Yaku agreed, leaning back into his chair.  “Indeed, politics is a great deal more complicated.  Needlessly so.”

Lev snorted through his nose by the door, which went unnoticed by the members of the council, but not Kuroo who stood beside him.

“Something funny?”

“It’s the General.  And his disdain for… complications.” Lev rolled his eyes.  “Everything is so clear cut to him somehow, all black and white with little room for greys.” 

“He’s always been a simple cat in all the years I’ve known him,” Kuroo agreed.  “Or maybe he’s just better at finding the most straightforward path.  But I never knew a more dedicated soldier.  And I’m inclined to agree with him here—Nohebi is dangerous.”

“I don’t think anyone is arguing that.” 

“Did something happen between you two?” Kuroo whispered, even quieter now and watching Lev carefully.  “You seem agitated whenever Yaku is mentioned or in the same room—“

“I don’t believe that’s your business.” Lev said coldly.

“If it affects your abilities to do your duties with a clear head, it becomes very much my business, Lev.  We are all bound too closely for that—there’s little room for secrets between us.”

“So not even my thoughts are my own?” Lev snapped, voice rising.

The members of the council turned to stare.

“Is something the matter, Lev?” Nekomata questioned lightly.

“Apologies, sir.  It’s nothing,” Lev cleared his throat and stared plainly at the ground, ignoring the way Yaku stared straight at him, boring into him with his eyes. 

Kenma too, looked long and hard at his young guardian, questioning.  But when he could discern nothing, he turned his eyes back to the table and resumed the discussions. 

“I won’t disregard the General’s concerns for our safety—amend the terms again, let me send them with my seal and a message so Daishou knows the discussions are between lords not proxies.  I’m sure he can understand not every meeting is possible when requested.” 

“That seems the fair course of action,” Nekomata hummed, stroking his chin.  “And if they refuse yet again?”

“One step at a time, please.” Kenma sighed. 

So for another hour they discussed several more reports and issues of lesser urgency though of no less import, and by the time Kenma was free to go, it was near time for dinner, and his eyelids were drooping helplessly. 

“I think I’ll retire to my room a bit,” Kenma told his two faithful sentinels as they left the meeting chambers.  As they walked, Kenma felt it prudent to ask once more, “I would prefer that the two of you see eye-to-eye in all things.  Lev, can you explain your earlier outburst?”

“We were talking of nothing.  Nothing of any importance.  Forgive me, my lord.  I’m agitated…from other things.” Lev mumbled. 

“Kuroo, you said nothing to antagonize him?”

“If I did, that wasn’t my intent.”  He shot an apologetic look at Lev, who nodded at him once in acknowledgment.  Kuroo knew he could be hard on the young cub, knew how hard he pushed him. 

“Well the meetings _do_ drag on,” Kenma admitted.  “I grow agitated myself most times.  I see you’re growing your mane?”

He stared at Lev’s lengthened hair, which was growing out in smooth silky waves, the longest parts of which were now reaching his shoulders.  Maybe not quite as long as Kenma’s yet, but fuller by far.  It was hard to tell if the new look made him look older or younger.

“Ah…” Lev touched his fingers to a stray lock falling form his ear.  “Does it… is this unacceptable?”

“I don’t mind,” Kenma shrugged.  “If anything, it makes you look almost as wild as Kuroo.”

Lev’s eyes flashed to the unruly spikes atop Kuroo’s head.  He wasn’t sure of that, but he was pleased to hear his lord didn’t object to the look.  He may not have wanted to look _wild_ , but he wanted _something_.  Something that told anyone who looked at him that he wasn’t just a fledgling cub.

“Growing the hair out but shaving the beard?” Kuroo teased as he touched a nick on Lev’s cheek where he had cut himself shaving.

“I want to look mature, not decrepitly old.” Lev huffed, shoving Kuroo’s hand off his face.  Truth be told, he had attempted to grow out the stubble, but he felt remarkably aged as soon as Edgar pointed out the similarity it bore him to his father.  Not to mention, Lady Mika wasn’t fond of the look either.  She didn’t explicitly say so, but he saw it in her expression plain as day. 

“That’s fair,” Kuroo chuckled.  “No need to rush to old age, it finds us all eventually.”

“Spoken like a true geezer,” Kenma teased.  “I think old age found you a long time ago.”

“Not my looks!” Kuroo protested, but not denying that his behavior did indeed speak to years he did not have. 

“But is that a grey hair I see?” Kenma mused.

“You can’t be serious.” Kuroo’s hands flew to his head, though without a mirror, the gesture would do little.

Kenma plucked a thin, silvery strand from Kuroo’s shoulder, and the panther’s face fell instantly. 

“Actually, that’s probably one of mine…” Lev noted, given the length and texture of the fiber.  Too long and thin to be one of Kuroo’s. 

Kenma gave a disapproving click of his tongue as he flicked the hair away.  “Lev you really need to learn when I’m teasing.  I was going to have fun with this for days.” 

“Ah… sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry,” Kuroo insisted, still patting at his own head.  “You’ve saved me days of torment.” 

The three reached Kenma’s chambers, and he dismissed them, claiming a short nap, all the while shooting Kuroo a pointed look.  Lev found himself wanting to retire to his own quarters (just down the hall) for a nap of his own.  Normally, these small windows of leisure would move him to seek out General Yaku’s company, but he wasn’t sure how much he wanted to see those little folded ears currently. 

“Can I ask you something?” Lev ventured, thinking (for once) to ask his fellow guardian.  “Do you think guardians shouldn’t fall in love?”

Kuroo visibly tensed, and Lev braced himself for a stern lecture, but he was surprised to hear Kuroo sigh and say instead,

“Ah… I… I wouldn’t say that.”  He stammered, tail twitching nervously behind him.  “Anyway, the more you forbid someone from doing something, the more they want to do it.  There’s no means to stop _anyone_ falling in love.  The heart so rarely listens to reason.” 

“And how would I know?  If I were?” Lev pressed, starved for words of wisdom from his partner—the _one_ person in all the kingdom who understood his situation completely, whose words weren’t just empty air. 

“Is there a person of such interest in your life?” Kuroo asked, trying not to sound too shocked or leading.  He had told Kenma only days ago he hadn’t thought Lev capable of romance—had thought him too immature for such things.  But clearly much was changing, and rather rapidly at that. 

“I might… I may…” Lev huffed, struggling to form his jumbled, incomplete thoughts into a cohesive sentence.  “What does it feel like?  Love?  Have you ever fallen in love?” 

Kuroo, for his part, had thought moments ago that Lev’s entire line of questioning was due to his deduction of his own and Kenma’s affair.  Evidently that was not the case, and Kuroo felt himself relaxing a touch, though guilt reminded him that Lev of all people should know the truth of their relationship.  Even Lord Akaashi and Bokuto knew.  Shouldn’t Lev?

“I have.  Fallen in love that is.”  Kuroo opted for a vague reply for now.  “But I think the experience differs with each individual.  You can’t assume you’ll feel exactly what I do.  Might.”

“But what was it like for you?  Was this back when you were a soldier?” Imagining Kuroo as a love-struck fool—the sort that appeared in plays—was comical, and it opened a side of the stern guardian Lev had never previously considered.  If fascinated him. 

“Why don’t you tell me what it is you’re feeling instead?” Kuroo offered, deftly side-stepping Lev’s probing questions.  “That may be more productive for you, I think.” 

“Me?  What do I feel?” Lev whispered, eyes falling to the floor.  “Well I… I get really excited.  When I think about being able to spend time with her—“

“Her?” Kuroo repeated, obviously confused.

“Her name is Mika, an old acquaintance of my sister’s.” 

Of course, Kuroo’s question hadn’t been meant for clarification so much as bewilderment.  Kenma had suspected the cub to bear feelings for Yaku, but apparently that was a misconception on all their parts. 

“Ah…”

“She’s… well, she’s very kind to me.  I don’t feel quite so… young or stupid when I’m with her.  She only ever says encouraging things to me, and… when she says I can do something, I start to believe it too.”  Lev gushed.

 _Young love,_ Kuroo thought.  _A first love…_ The feel-good sort that begins with an astonishingly tight grip on one’s heart, all rose-colored and many times quite shallow.  He’d seen enough of his fellow soldiers similarly afflicted in his youth.  Though many times such feelings deepened and grew with time, taking root and blossoming into the sort of love about which poets sang, Kuroo suspected that for now, Lev’s heart was gripped with an immediate infatuation. 

“You do sound rather fond of her,” Kuroo said carefully, not wanting to fan the flames.  

“But is that _love_ , I wonder?” 

“I can’t answer that for you, Lev.” 

“And if it is, what should I do?  I’m a guardian, I can’t… I can’t make proper time for her.  I can’t even promise to always be there for her, and what sort of behavior is that for a… a lover?” The last word felt so foreign on his tongue, he almost choked on it.  “If I were presented with the choice to save Kenma’s life or hers… honor demands I do all in my power for my liege.  But what of love then?  Should love conquer honor?  Wouldn’t a mother do anything for her child in the name of _love_ regardless of all other consequences?  How can any _guardian_ ever hope to find a proper love?” 

“I had no idea you thought of such things,” Kuroo murmured. 

“Even a simpleton like myself was bound to develop feelings such as these sooner or later!” Lev snapped.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Kuroo reached out his arm, but Lev turned his cheek.

No matter how hard he tried, he didn’t think Kuroo would ever view him as his equal.  Nor General Yaku, nor any of the Council… Not even Kenma.  It was clear how much his lord preferred Kuroo’s company at all times, clear how everyone treated Kuroo with respect and Lev with a condescending tone like one would a child. 

“I think I’ll turn in for a bit,” Lev stated coldly.  “I’ll see you at dinner.” 

He then gave a stiff nod of his head before skulking off to his quarters, slamming the door behind him and flopping down onto his bed.  Despite his agitation, sleep came to him quite quickly once he closed his eyes.  He dreamt of garden sunsets, blue petals floating in the breeze, a soft voice whispering gently into his ear. 

* * *

 

“It’s odd to think how often we see each other and yet talk so little,” Yaku mused as he and Kuroo paced across the grounds, the orange glow of the sunset warming them even as the evening air grew cool on their skin.  “But, well… the two of us have always been overly dedicated to our duties.”

“That much we will always have in common,” Kuroo agreed.

“Even if you have the most bizarre tastes and prefer sweet curry and swimming in the sea.”  Yaku laughed.

“You mean I have the better tastes,” Kuroo sneered, whipping his tail at Yaku’s arm.  “But there is _one_ other thing we share…”

“Do tell.”

“Concern.  For Lev.” 

Yaku’s steps slowed immediately, his lips drawing into a hard line across his face.  Eventually, he nodded his head once in agreement before matching pace with the guardian again. 

“Somehow, I feel confident you know more about his current troubles than I do.  He’s always confided in you, as his former mentor.”

“A little less now than he used to.” 

“But a little is more than nothing.  All I know is he’s been off lately—short-tempered, restless… this afternoon, he even asked me what love feels like, and I found myself staring at him as if I were seeing him for the first time.  To hear him speak of such worries… I never knew he could think so much.”  Kuroo laughed.

“It’s difficult to remember he’s not a cub anymore,” Yaku agreed solemnly. 

“You don’t sound at all surprised.  So I suppose I can safely ask you: who is Mika?”

Yaku sighed, scratching at his hair and wondering just how much he was at liberty to divulge.  Even as a guardian, Lev’s private affairs were still entirely his own, and he felt at odds offering up such information.  Were it anyone besides Kuroo asking, he’d swear silence.  But as it was his old friend and Lev’s partner…

“She claims to be an old acquaintance of the Lady Alisa, recently moved back to the Capitol.” 

“Claims to be?”

“Well, I can’t corroborate the truth, and the Haiba family is currently traveling, so I can’t ask Alisa directly.  Lev claims to have a vague memory of her, but, he’s also a bit… blindsided.” 

“What reasons do you have for not trusting her?”

“It’s just a gut feeling,” Yaku grumbled.  “The way she encourages him, almost endlessly… she makes careless commentary that makes him question his priorities, planting seeds of doubt regarding his choices in life…”

“My friend, that sounds like jealousy.”

Yaku stopped walking altogether then, his brows furrowed so tight Kuroo feared they’d get stuck that way. 

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“If not jealousy, then paranoia.”

“Paranoia then!” Yaku shouted.  “I am the General of this kingdom’s armed forces, and I am trained to consider every possible threat to Nekoma’s safety; to Kenma’s safety!”

“But what does this girl… this new infatuation of Lev’s… what threat can there be?  To Nekoma, mind.  Not you.”

“You think I feel personally threatened by this girl?”

“The hardened General façade doesn’t work on me, Yaku.  Your affections for the cub are clear.” 

Yaku bit his lip, but said nothing.

“You never could speak well of those most dear to you,” Kuroo smiled.  “I am not making judgments, I just want to know what you know—I just want to know how I can help my partner.  We cannot function as a team with this rift in his heart.”

“Well what could I possibly say?” Yaku choked, and Kuroo turned his face away so that the proud General could wipe at his tears with a modicum of privacy.  “He’s in love.  The fool is in love, and it colors his every judgment.”

“That it must,” Kuroo muttered.  He laid a firm hand on Yaku’s shoulder, gripping hard.

“Swear to me you won’t let the imbecile walk out on his sworn position as guardian.”

“That’s not exactly my call,” Kuroo admitted.  “But I don’t believe we need to worry about that.  If anything, I feel he’s more determined than ever to be the best guardian he can be, contradictory though it is to the blossoming romance in his heart.” 

“I warned you once,” Yaku sniffed.  “Against having feelings for your charge.”

“And I agreed with you.  Once.  But we are old hypocrites, you and I.”  Kuroo smiled.  “And such things are always easier said than done.” 

“I should never have agreed to mentor him personally.”

“If you hadn’t, _you_ might have been chosen to be a guardian instead.”  Kuroo noted.  “And that would have made your life _more_ complicated, I think.  Don’t dwell on what’s done.”

Yaku nodded his head miserably, elbowing Kuroo lightly in the side.

“I’ll admit some surprise, however,” Kuroo admitted.  “Lev?”

“No one is more surprised than me, I promise you,” Yaku grumbled.  “Arrogant and idiotic… it takes dozens and dozens of repetitions to get anything to stick in that head of his, nor does he use that head for anything as far as I can tell.  So incredibly simple-minded; never thinks before speaking…  But do you know, there are moments… they’re rare; I’ve no means to consistently draw such focus out of him, but there are moments when his eyes go incredibly sharp, and you can feel a chill run through your bones.  The fear of the hunted.  Even a simpleton like him is capable of such, did you know?”

“He roared at me once,” Kuroo recalled quietly.  “It shook me to my core even as I knew his heart wasn’t fully in the outcry.  He was only trying to hold me back then.  And still it was… it certainly left an impression.”

“Such lurking ferocity… yet he is still the warmest, most trusting cat I know.” 

“It borders on naïve.” 

“It makes me want to smack him to his senses,” Yaku huffed.  “And it also makes me want to hold him tight to me so I may shield him from all that threaten to take that naivety away.”

“I daresay, Yaku…” Kuroo mused.  “It seems to me your feelings for Lev are rather… _complicated_.”

It occurred to Kuroo later that evening as he kissed Kenma’s forehead good night and drew him close beneath the covers, that a year ago he had been in the same position as his comrades, pining and forlorn and wanting for all the world to rip his heart out of his chest.  Yet now, he could consider himself on par with an exuberant newlywed, save for a few details.  If only the fates could be as kind to the others, for peace in one’s heart was a wonderful thing.

* * *

 

“Kuroo!  Kuroo, wake up!  Kuroo!”

He was rudely jostled awake the next morning by a panicked Lev standing over his bed—actually Kenma’s bed—and his first horrifying thought was that Lev had caught them red-handed in their love affair.  But that thought lasted only a moment as in the next, he thought it bizarre how the room swam in circles above him, and he squeezed his eyes shut again so as not to vomit. 

“Ngh…” he groaned, the pounding in his head growing louder as consciousness slipped slowly back to his brain.  “Wh-what..”

“Kenma!  Where’s Kenma?!”

“What are you—“ Kuroo reached out beside him on the bed and felt nothing there, only cold sheets, and his eyes shot back open, his panic overriding his nausea.  He sat up suddenly and thought his head might explode from the movement, but there were more important things.  He looked around him frantically, and the first realization to his now, more-awake mind was that he was back in his own quarters.

_How?  I… I thought I slept in Kenma’s room last night…_

The second realization was that it was nearly high noon, judging by the light outside his window, and he never ever slept in so late. 

“Do you remember last night at all?” Lev asked him urgently, failing to keep his voice low. 

“I… I’m not sure…” He couldn’t exactly tell Lev he was sleeping in the wrong room.  Appearances dictated he was very much sleeping in the right one, for how could he explain why he was meant to be sleeping in Kenma’s?

“I remember being attacked.  In the dark,” Lev continued, voice panicked and half-wheezing.  “They threw a cloth across my face, and… and then I woke up in my bed only a little while ago.  But I—I remembered.  I remembered last night, and so I rushed to Kenma’s room, but he wasn’t there, so… so I barged in here, and you—you’re not all right, are you?”

Kuroo groaned, his insides churning.  He could feel it only now—he’d been drugged.  Quite heavily too; he didn’t think he could properly stand.  He gripped Lev’s arm for support and tried to steady himself onto his feet, a cold sweat forming on his brow.  When his knees immediately gave way beneath him, Lev lowered him back down onto the bed, urging him to lie back down. 

“They must have drugged you more heavily.  I’ll bring the doctor to you, just wait here—“

“Kenma!” Kuroo gasped, unable to match his strength to Lev’s as he fell back down onto the sheets.  His body was shivering now.  “You said—“

“I’m going to call up the guards; we’ll search the palace from top to bottom, the grounds too, but you can’t even sit up, so stay here!  Leave this to me.”

“I can’t just—“ Kuroo protested, attempting to rise, but his body was fighting him all the more. 

“Stay put!!” Lev snarled, a hint of a roar coloring his tongue.  “You’re no help to anyone the way you are now!” 

Kuroo groaned, the shivers seizing his body quite firmly now; he felt cold, _so_ cold.  All over… his eyelids grew heavy even as his heart threatened to pound right out of his chest.  His breathing started to come in short, ragged gasps, and that’s when Lev realized: he needed to bring the doctor _right away_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH SNAP WUT


	6. Shifting Powers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunt for Kenma begins...

Kenma awoke in a pitch-black room—no, he had no idea how dark the room was.  Actually, he was blindfolded.  His wrists were bound uncomfortably behind him, and he lay curled up on a cold stone floor.  His joints ached, and his mouth was dry, lips chapped.  Groaning, he pulled at his restraints, testing them, and when he found they only grew tighter with his efforts, he attempted to pull himself to a sitting position, straining his ears to listen to his surroundings. 

“Oh, the little lord is awake!” a voice chimed—he didn’t recognize it at all.  Not that he expected to.  Bandits?  Perhaps just a desperate faction out for a ransom? 

He heard a faint rustling before a second voice joined the first. 

“About bloody time; we were getting tired of carrying you.  Now you can get on your feet an walk properly with the rest of us.” 

Kenma felt a light kick collide with his thigh, nudging him over, but he refused to get up.

“Water,” he demanded hoarsely, licking at his chapped lips. 

“Still think you can give orders in your position?” the first voice sneered.  “Do you think we’ll bow and scrape at your feet after all this?” 

He heard a hiss—he couldn’t be sure from who—but it sounded like a warning, and the first voice scoffed, as if wrongly reprimanded. 

“He can drink piss for all I care.”

“That’s not what we were told.  Give him a drink from your flagon.”  A third voice now—possibly from someone in charge?

Kenma heard a snort, a minor scuffling of feet, and then he felt the cool spigot of the flagon pressed roughly to his lips.  He wrapped his mouth around it and drank carefully, managing three full gulps before the water was taken rudely away.  A second later, it was splashed over his head, and he yelped at the sudden, cold wetness that now drenched him. 

A voice laughed above him.  “There’s your water, _milord_.” 

Kenma heard another disapproving click of the tongue before he was pulled roughly to his fee.  He struggled to find his balance, bound and blindfolded as he was, and he stumbled more than once on the uneven ground before he could confidently support his own weight.  The water dripped steadily from his hair down his face, plastering the fabric of the blindfold to his eyes.  He shivered as a breeze swept over him; he was still in his bedclothes, too light and loose for travel, much less enough to keep him warm. 

“I’m cold.” He stated to his captors.  He wasn’t keen on giving them any satisfaction from having him in a vulnerable position.  Bound and captive, he was still a lord, and he had his pride. 

But despite meeting his request for water, they would not indulge him this, whatever their orders, and he felt a rough kick collide into the back of his knee, sending him tumbling disgracefully down.  The ground was less stony here, more earthy, and he could feel the mud cake itself into his clothes and into his hair.  To his credit, he didn’t cry out this time, just coughed and spat out the dirt taste in his mouth. 

“On your feet,” a pitiless voice demanded, more gruffly than before.  “We may be under orders to keep you alive and whole, but you can still be plenty whole with a few bruises here and there, understand?  Don’t pushhhh your luck.”

As Kenma was pulled roughly to his feet and pushed on ahead, he thought to himself, _Ah… snakes.  Why am I not surprised?  Another kidnapping, and so soon after the first attempt; goodness, Daishou must truly have a fixation about me._

Despite his arguably dire circumstances, he found it difficult to feel much fear or panic.  The men who took him were under clear instruction not to harm him, and that eased his concerns somewhat.  More than anything, he felt a bizarre confidence that Kuroo and Lev would find him, given they were dealing with repeat offenders.  He wondered if they would take him to Nohebi to meet with Daishou; he’d never been to their kingdom before though surely he would have at some point without duress.  _What would it look like?_ He mused quietly to himself. 

“You should know,” he began again, ignoring the displeased hisses that now ran between his captors.  “I have an awful sense of direction.  Even without the blindfold, I’ll have no idea where we are; you might as well untie and let me see.  I’ll walk more quickly that way too, mind.” 

It was somewhat crude bargaining, and unfortunately, Kenma’s kidnappers were feeling sadistic now.

“All the more reason for you to keep it on then.  We’d _hate_ to make your life easier by any small measurement.” 

“Even when it can make your own life easier as well?” Kenma pressed.

“Even then!” A ripple of laughter passed between them. 

_Well so much for that,_ Kenma thought miserably.

A stray step over some loose rocks sent Kenma crashing back to the ground—this time he could feel the skin of his knee had split open, his own blood warming his skin, the gash stinging from being exposed to the elements.  Again he heard them snicker and jeer between themselves, and as he was pulled roughly again to his feet, he muttered loudly for them all to hear, “This place you’re leading me to… I hope it has a shower at least.” 

The snickering died down immediately, and Kenma added a point to the victory column in his mental tally.  They could not laugh if he did not cry. 

* * *

 

The next time Kuroo awoke, it was to the sound of Lev and Yaku bickering beside his bed, trying and _failing_ to speak in hushed tones. 

“If we haven’t found him by now, we need to expand the search outside the Capitol, let the citizenry know, and have the kingdom on high alert!  Close our borders—“

“Don’t be an idiot, Lev!  If the people knew Kenma has been kidnapped, there would be panic and hysteria and any of the bordering nations seeking to gain an advantage will strike, knowing we are vulnerable!  This knowledge must _not_ leave the palace!” 

“Then how are we to find him?  How many soldiers can we truly spare to the task?”

“They can only do what we command, but _we_ must be the ones to think three steps ahead.  Without a direction to point them in, even millions of soldiers would still be of no use!”

“He’s right…” Kuroo groaned and the other two jumped quite visibly.

“Kuroo!  No, don’t get up—“ Lev rushed first to his bedside, urging him to lay back down onto the pillows.  “The Doctor’s ordered you confined to bedrest for at least a few more days—you were in pretty bad shape.”

“I couldn’t possibly lay about while—I have a job to do—“

“Trust me, my friend,” Yaku cut in.  “You look quite awful.  For your sake as well as Kenma’s, I’ll restrain you to your bed if I have to.”

“At least there’s a little color back in your cheeks,” Lev noted.  “A few hours ago, you looked as pale as death.  If you focus on your rest and recovery, you’ll improve your condition faster.  Who knows—you might be all better by tomorrow morning!”

Kuroo groaned his protest even as he could feel how little his body could move.

“We need to find Kenma before then.”

“Agreed, but… we’ll have to do that without you.” 

“What… happened to me?” Kuroo moaned, he was still very woozy—clearly, he was meant to still be unconscious.  “Why is Lev so unaffected if we were both drugged?”

“You were also poisoned,” Yaku added.

“Just me?”

“Perhaps they thought you the bigger threat,” the General suggested, ignoring the way Lev bristled at the implication against him.  “Or perhaps our culprit has a particular vendetta against you.  We can only guess for now.”

“No ransom note?” Kuroo pressed.

Lev shook his head somberly.

“It has to be those blasted snakes.  Poison?  That’s practically Daishou’s calling card.  We need to—“

“Before that—“ Lev cut in nervously.  “We found this… under Kenma’s bed.”

“That’s—“ Kuroo gasped.

“An owl feather.” Yaku finished.

“But… we have a strong alliance with Fukurodani.  I can’t imagine that Lord Akaashi—“

“And we can’t say with any certainty that Lord Akaashi sanctioned this.  But we can’t straightaway assume it’s our scaly neighbors just yet.”  Yaku said firmly.  “It’s been only a few hours—investigations aren’t complete.  But whatever our feelings… this isn’t something we can easily ignore.”

“The Magisters are discussing how best to approach Lord Akaashi with the topic… they’re wary of him, but they don’t want to sound too accusing—“

“They can’t be responsible for this—come on Lev!” Kuroo sighed, feeling the room spin.  He shut his eyes.  “Yaku may be as paranoid as he needs to be, but you and I spent weeks at Fukurodani under Lord Akaashi’s care; you can’t possibly think them responsible for this.  Akaashi _adores_ our lord; maybe one of their citizenry, but—“

“I didn’t spend as much time with him as you did,” Lev reminded him softly.  “And how well do you _really_ know them?”

“Lev…”

“For now, this feather is the only evidence we have.  This and your poisoning.  Those are the facts.  They paint a bizarre picture so far, but… we’re all doing everything we can.”  Yaku insisted.  “Now rest, Kuroo.  Let us do your jobs and have some faith in your partner.” 

As much as Kuroo wanted to argue, to struggle, to say hell to what the doctor ordered and dash out of the palace to look for Kenma by himself… He knew they were right.  In his condition, he could do nothing.  _Nothing_!  Kenma needed him now more than ever but he… He felt hot tears spring to his eyes and fall down his cheeks, his breathing marred with sniffling gasps—he hadn’t just failed Kenma as his guardian, he’d failed him as a lover, as a friend… they had been kittens when Kuroo first swore he’d protect him forever.  If _anything_ happened to Kenma, he’d…

“Please.  Kuroo.  Please rest.”  Lev squeezed Kuroo’s hand before rising. “I’ll check in on you when I can and keep you updated.”

With a quiet nod shared with the General, the two took their leave, commanding the guards outside Kuroo’s door to keep him there under pain of death—under no circumstances were they permitted to let the panther leave.  Once they were out of earshot on their way to the council chamber, Lev let out a long sigh, ruffling his hair. 

“I’ve never seen Kuroo so distraught like that.  Well… I suppose I’ve seen him overcome with rage, but I’ve never seen him cry.  I wasn’t honestly sure he could.”

“Believe me he can.” Yaku said, his eyes growing dark and cold with memory.  “The more battles you see, the more tears you’ll see him shed.  I saw him weep once for a soldier who died in his arms—a soldier without a name; we didn’t know him.  But still, Kuroo wept for him.  _That_ is his character, Lev.  You have much and more to learn about him.” 

“I suppose that’s a comfort.”

“But for now, we have a job to do.  While the Magisters busy themselves with the politics of this matter, let us both split our search.  I trust Nohebi perhaps even less than Kuroo.  Lead a squadron and search from here to Nohebi’s borders—perhaps they were thinking of taking him straight back to Daishou.  We may yet catch them; they’ll be slower with Kenma in their custody.” 

“And you?”

“I’ll divide up the rest of the soldiers we can spare and lead a search party in another direction.  But Lev, _remember._  Discretion.  Tell no one who doesn’t need to know.  We must keep order within our borders.”

Yaku bit his lip as he watched Lev depart, the lion wholly intent on doing his duty to the best of his ability.  But he couldn’t afford to feel guilty for the deception with what was at stake.  If this escalated, Nekoma needed to brace for war, and he needed to confer with his officers for that possibility.  After that, he would indeed send out the search parties he said he would.  As for himself, he had a person of interest in mind he wished to question, and that interrogation would be much better done in Lev’s absence. 

* * *

 

“Welcome, General!”

“I’m sorry, I don’t have time for pleasantries, Edgar—where might I find the Lady Mika?”

As two soldiers entered the manor behind him, Yaku could see how uncomfortable the steward grew with their presence, but he gave little resistance to his question. 

“Ah, I… I believe she’s in the study—is something the matter?”

“Hopefully nothing, Edgar.  Please, would you lead us to her?”

Still twitching about nervously, his eyes darting between the soldiers and the General, he led them upstairs.  As promised, they found her seated on a long couch in the smaller study—she opted not to use the room that belonged to Lev and Alisa’s father—reading a book.  She looked quite cozy, actually.

“What a surprise, General—goodness!  I hope you’re not about to tell me you’ve brought those soldiers for little old me!” She smiled, rising from her seat and giving a little curtsy. 

“Hopefully not, milady.”  Yaku nodded as Edgar excused himself hurriedly. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“I would very much like to ask you a few questions.” 

“By all means, General,” she waved a hand.  “Won’t you sit?”

“Thank you, but no—I don’t expect this will take long.  Can you account for your whereabouts last night?”

“Last night?  Why… where else would I have been but here?  Asleep?”

“Can anyone corroborate that?”

“Well I… Edgar usually does a final check on me before I turn in for the night, but I doubt the man watches me sleep!  Rather, if he does, I’m going to need to have an _awkward_ conversation with Lev…” she giggled. 

“Please be serious, milady.”

“If we were all as serious as you General, the world would be a very dull place indeed.  Now please, tell me, for I am no fool, what on earth is this about?”

“I’d like an answer to that myself.  Tell me, to whom do you report?”

“Report?  I’m afraid I don’t your meaning.”

“Normally, I handle my interrogations with a little more subtlety, but the situation presses upon my time so I must be blunt: I suspect you are a spy, Lady Mika—if that is, in fact, who you really are—“

“A spy?!”

“The timing of your arrival to the Capitol grossly coincides with the events of the past few weeks, indeed of last night—“

“Well what on earth happened last night?” 

“—and I have exceedingly little patience for games so tell me who you work for, what you’ve told them, and where we are to find our Lord!!!”

His shouts reverberated throughout the small office, and it brought Lady Mika to silence.  After several moments, she slowly rose to her feet, and pointed a shaking finger at the door.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave, General.”

“You have no authority here.”

“I am a guest in this house, and the only one who can expel you is—“

“—searching frantically for his liege, and so I demand to know—“

“What on earth is any of this about?!  If Lord Kenma’s gone missing as you say, I know nothing about it—how could I?!  Who could I possibly ‘work’ for—I am a citizen of Nekoma!” 

“Yet no one can confirm that—the Haiba family is traveling abroad so Lady Alisa cannot vouch for you—“

“Lev can, and has—“

“He was a _child_ when he last saw the Lady Mika; his memory is foggy at best!  Life in the country, you said?  You never did say exactly where… and tell me, what noble family would allow their young lady of the household to return to the Capitol, on her _own_ , with _no_ attendant to speak of, indeed, barely any possessions on her person!  With no pre-arranged living quarters, such that she would have to gamble upon the generosity of an old acquaintance she hasn’t seen or spoken to in _years_ —you can see how all of this might seem queer to anyone who knows to ask the right questions—who are you truly?  Where have you really come from?” 

“You come here under the guise of friend and with Lev’s trust, and you accuse me of such foul schemes—how dare you, sir!  I shan’t speak to you—not one word—given the discourtesy you have shown me!”

“Then you leave me no choice.”  Yaku waved a hand to the two guards, and they stepped forward, one of them producing a pair of iron shackles.  “I’ll be taking you into custody.”

“You can’t!” she screeched, backing away.  “What proof have you?!”

“I shall find it eventually, I’m sure.”

She struggled feebly against the soldiers, but it was to no avail.  They bound her wrists in front and led her out by a chain, Edgar stammering frantically as they took her away. 

“You can’t do this!  Edgar, please!  Don’t let them do this!” 

“B-but… what is the meaning of this, General?”

“We are apprehending the lady under suspicion of treason and espionage and foul plots against the crown.”

“But Master Lev—“

“Will be informed as soon as he returns to the palace; I won’t be keeping this a secret from him.  Are you questioning my judgment, Edgar?”

“W-well… why no!   No sir, but…”

“Send a raven.  You know where Master Haiba and the Lady Alisa are.  Ask them if they have any recollections to a Lady Mika, then ask them to describe her in full: appearance, mannerisms, I require whatever details they can provide regarding her family and any contact they’ve shared within the last several years.  And as soon as you receive that reply, you are to report to me directly, is that clear?”

“I—I…” Edgar stammered.

“Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”  Yaku motioned for the soldiers to place Mika into the carriage, leaving Edgar with one last, “I accept full responsibility for this.  Do not be concerned with how this will reflect upon you; this is much outside the purview of a steward’s duties.  Consider instead that your first duty is to Lev’s family, and that this is in their best interest.”

“You think her a threat, General?”

“I do.”

“With all due respect, General Yaku,” Edgar seemed to have found his voice at last.  “She’s been a pleasure and a joy to host in this house.  Even if she is not who she claims to be, I don’t think her capable of anything malicious.  I will do as you’ve commanded for I know you have your duty… but I hope you’re wrong in this, General.  I do.”

Yaku nodded his acknowledgment, but he closed his heart to doubt.  His instincts had rarely been wrong, and he was willing to risk this blemish to his record— _she_ was a nobody, and he had to find his sovereign. 

* * *

 

“I’m tired of walking,” Kenma groaned.  He’d been made to walk since morning—or what he assumed to be morning—and judging by the cooling temperatures, he guessed the hour was approaching dusk.  “And I’m hungry.”

“I’ve never known a captive to talk so much!” one of the voices hissed. 

Kenma heard stomping that stopped short just before reaching him—presumably one of his mates holding him back. 

“We’re almost there, keep it together.”

“And as soon as we get there, I’m going to make sure the little Lord gets nice and cozy!”

“Restrain yourself.  You know the penalty for damaging the prize.  All reprisals are for _him_ to do.” 

“Then I’d better at least get to watch.” 

“Sounds like a party,” Kenma said flatly, moving to sit on the ground as they bickered around him. 

“On your feet, we’re not there yet!”

“I can’t walk anymore.” Kenma pouted, making use of his brattiest, most petulant behavior—the sort that drove the Magisters nuts when he had been a kitten.  “I’m not getting up until my feet have had some rest.  Or, you’re free to carry me.” 

“We’re free to _drag_ you too; on your feet.”

“I should think that’s more work than you’re really giving it credit for,” Kenma huffed.

A sudden slap silenced him, stinging across his cheek in a wave.  He had been mid-sentence when struck—soon he tasted the metallic tang from where he accidentally bit his tongue.  Clenching his teeth, he swallowed it down so they couldn’t see the blood.  But before he could compose a witty quip for the slap, he felt a strong grip around his ankle, and then suddenly his balance was shifted quite upside-down.

The unexpected upward pull on his leg sent his upper body to the ground—thankfully, he hit his head on mostly grass—and then there was a rough, strong pull.  They were indeed willing to drag him; alas, not all talk.  And if the terrain were all soft grass, he might have endured it, but very soon sharp rocks were digging and tearing into the exposed skin of his back, his shirt crumpled uncomfortably upward, and his neck strained to keep his head elevated above the ground. 

With a grunt, Kenma kicked at the hand that gripped his ankle, attempting to pull free.  It took several awkward attempts and no small amount of writing before they stopped, and he felt a sharp kick collide with his ribs. 

“Oh, the little lord doesn’t like being dragged!”

“Well, it’s this or he walks.  What’ll it be, _milord_?”

Kenma grunted and rolled, pulling at his wrist restraints as he tried to right himself, feeling winded and bruised.  And still very hungry. 

“Or maybe he’ll just crawl!”

“A proper pussy cat on all fours!” 

A rough hand grabbed his hair suddenly, pulling him harshly up to a half-sitting, half-kneeling position. 

“So, what’ll it be?”

The breath was foul in his nose, and Kenma coughed, considering an insult, but he was growing tired of the games.  “Help me to my feet.”

“With pleasure.”  And he could hear the triumphant sneer in that voice.

As they resumed their journey, Kenma now stumbling and feeling significantly drained from exerting himself, he considered saving further acts of misbehavior for the next day, once he’d had some rest and maybe even a little food.  For now, he tried not to grown from the soreness, and he tried very much to ignore the uncomfortable swelling of several new bruises.

* * *

 

Kuroo felt every insult, every wrong.  He felt the pain on his cheek, in his ribs, the pattern of stinging flesh across his back and snarled at his helplessness.  The empty room echoed his frustrations.  Despite the weakness in his bones, he attempted to crawl out of bed, mostly succeeding in transplanting himself from lying on the bed to lying on the floor. 

“Ngh….” He groaned, trying to will more strength to his limbs.  He had to go, he had to leave—they were hurting him!  “Kenma…”

The noise brought one of the guards inside, and immediately, he tried to get the panther back into bed.

“Sir!  Sir, please!  You’re in no condition to be out of bed!”

“I have to go…” Kuroo struggled feebly, but he hadn’t recovered not even half of his strength and the guard overpowered him easily.  “They’re… they’re hurting him!”

“Sir—go get the doctor!” He called to his fellow guard outside the door.

“What can the doctor do?!” His partner fumbled, not sure if she should assist in helping the guardian back to bed or make haste to the medical bay.

“The doctor can administer a sedative—I’d rather not have to tie him down.  You?”

“All—all right….”

“Please…” Kuroo begged as she rushed off.  “Please let me go to him…”

“You have a fever; you’re not well.”  The guard manage to haul him back up on the bed at last, unmoved by Kuroo’s pleas.

“Please…” But already Kuroo could feel his strength fading—as was Kenma’s pain.  He wasn’t sure which was more unbearable—the fact that Kenma was being harmed, or the fact that he was helpless to try and stop it.  It certainly wasn’t the pain itself. 

* * *

 

“Well goodness, General, even _I_ can vouch for the girl,” Nekomata gruffed as they stood outside Lady Mika’s holding cell.  “She was at Court in her younger days.”

“Magister Nekomata!” she cried gratefully.  “I wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me at all—“

“Even if she was _once_ a member of the court, that fact alone doesn’t exonerate her of the charges.” Yaku held his ground.

“Maybe not, but these conditions are appalling, General.  You don’t mean to keep her here overnight?”

“I intend to keep her detained as long as necessary.  If I’m right in my suspicions—“

“And that is a mighty big _if_.” The Magister cut in.

“—then there shouldn’t be any further information flowing to her commanding officer, whoever he or she is.  Without their informant, they no longer have knowledge of our plans and movements.  It buys us time, lets us gather our bearings.”

“How would she even have knowledge of such things?”

“I’m sure Lev divulges more than he strictly should.”

“All wild surmises, and now you point accusations at a guardian as well.  I cannot condone any of this, General.  It’s clear the girl knows nothing and is terrified.”

“You can’t know that after holding her for only a few hours.  And when it comes to these matters, I do not require your approval.  The only authority that can override me in this has been _kidnapped_ , do remember, and I intend to use whatever means necessary to retrieve him!”

“I told you, I don’t know anything about that!” Mika called from inside her cell, curled up atop the hard wooden bench inside. 

Ignoring her, Yaku continued.  “I haven’t arrested her just to arrest her, there are investigations underway.  I’m awaiting a raven that should provide me more information about this girl, but if you can possibly vouch for her family, Magister?”

“I’m not in contact with her family, but… well, surely we can find them easily enough.  Where in the country do they live exactly?” 

“…Tashirojima.” She mumbled. 

“I find that extraordinarily convenient, don’t you?  Completely out of our jurisdiction and at least two days sail from the Bay—we’ll get no answers for this supposed family in any hurry.  And we don’t have time for this.” 

A soldier rushed down to them in the dungeons, out of breath and panic written plain on his face. 

“Sirs!  I’m… Sir Lev has returned!”

“Has he found anything?” Yaku pressed.

“Please come with me to the Main Hall—“

“No—actually, we should have Lev meet us down here.” Nekomata urged.  “He should know the current liberties the General has taken.  Especially when the Lady is _his_ personal houseguest.”

“Impossible, sir.  Please… We must all proceed to the Main Hall—Lord Daishou Suguru has arrived.”

“What?!”

Without another word, Nekomata shoved past Yaku, rushing on ahead to perform his statesman’s duties, however frazzled, leaving Yaku to glare long and hard at the silent girl in the cell.  If only he could detect a glimmer of relief, perhaps even triumph… Even fear would be telling, but she merely sat in stony silence on the bench, eyes fixed determinedly on the floor.  Doubt began to creep into his mind—he could make nothing of her.  And every politician would remind him how the end could never justify the means.  Pretty words from pampered seats, and Yaku kicked at the bars of the cell once before leaving.

_Why would Daishou come?  If he were responsible for all this, it would be folly for him to show his face here._

By the time Yaku reached the welcoming party, they had already dispensed with their introductions, and the General gave a hurried apology for his intrusion and tardiness.  He eyed Daishou and his accompanying guard warily and gave little care as to whether or not his apprehension showed. 

“Again, Lord Daishou, I must emphasize your visit is _extremely_ sudden, and without prior—“

“Well I _did_ make prior requests, did I not?” The Nohebi ruler smiled politely, but the smile did not quite reach his eyes.  “Yes, it is a bit uncouth to make the visit without it being agreed upon, but the requests had already been made, many times over, so I doubt it comes as a true shock to any of you.  In any case, shameful though it is to admit, I am desperate.  I come on behalf of my people to finalize the terms of that trade agreement.  To be quite frank, I have come to beg.” 

“But, I’m afraid—“

“I understand how busy Lord Kenma must be, and I am well aware of how many protocols I’ve broken to be here; I am happy to wait until such time as he is available to see me.  And he _will_ see me.”

“Ah…” Magister Nekomata’s shoulders slumped.  Without giving away the truth of Kenma’s whereabouts, they could not exactly turn Daishou away.  Moreover, the Lord Daishou had even been a suspect.  Perhaps still.  Just for that, he was reluctant to let him leave.  He eyed Naoi, who cleared his throat.

“Well…” Magister Naoi spoke slowly, choosing his words very, _very_ carefully.  “Regardless… it is too late in the evening for you to make the journey back—“

“Indeed.  And I do not intend to return until I have something satisfactory I can present to my people.” 

“Yes… well… We shall prepare guest rooms for all of you in the palace, and we can continue discussions in the morning.”

“No need to prepare more than two rooms, Magister,” Daishou bowed humbly.  “My men can share a single room between them, and we would hate to impose upon you any more than necessary.”  He then nodded to his two guards, who gave silent nods in return. 

“Then… for now…” Magister Naoi moved to steer them to a drawing room to wait until their chambers were prepared.

“Oh, and… many thanks to you, Lev.” Daishou touched Lev’s arm gently as he walked on.  “What a happy coincidence to meet you on the road as we did; you were a most excellent escort.  I daresay your mere presence must do much to make Lord Kenma feel safer.”

“Ah… it was my—my pleasure.”  Lev stammered, quite taken aback. 

“Well then, good night to you.” Daishou smiled charmingly. 

As soon as they were quite alone, Yaku smacked Lev upon the arm where Daishou had touched it with his scaly fingers. 

“You completely blindsided us!” he fumed.

“He blindsided _me_!”  Lev screeched, dodging Yaku’s second blow.  “We were making our stops when he came at us from the direction of Nohebi and just… I couldn’t tell him we were searching for Kenma, so I told him I was conducting routine patrols, and then he… he sort of… _strongly_ hinted that I should escort him to the palace.  I doubt you’d have done differently had you been in my position!”

“I would have done _exactly_ the same thing!” Yaku agreed angrily.  “I just… he unnerves me!  Daishou’s playing this game several steps ahead of us, _if_ he is in fact playing.  Coming here personally makes him appear ignorant.  Even innocent.”

“Perhaps he is?”

“I’m not ready to rule him out just yet.”

“You’re not ready to rule _anyone_ out yet.” Nekomata interjected, crossing his arms.  “Tell Lev what you’ve done.”

“I’ll ask you kindly not to take that tone with me, Magister.” Yaku hissed, his own tail bristling. 

“He’s arrested Lady Mika—“

“What?!” Lev whirled on his former teacher, disbelief and fury coloring his cheeks.

“She’s currently being held downstairs in a holding cell—“

“You _arrested_ her?” Lev screeched.  “On what grounds?  From my—from my home?!”

“I don’t trust her—“

“You went behind my back—you misled me—did you think I would find Kenma on that road at all?!”

“Of course I did—I hoped you would!”  Yaku reached out but Lev slapped his hand away harshly. 

“Take me to see her.”

“I’m not finished with my interrogations.”

“Take me to see her. _Now_.”  Lev growled menacingly, his green eyes flashing.  “I outrank you, General.  Take me to her, or I promise that _you_ will spend the night in a holding cell of your own.” 

When they reached her cell and Lev unlocked the door, she flung herself into his arms, all of a sudden sobbing quite profusely and (in Yaku’s opinion) putting on quite a show.

“Lev!  I was so frightened!  I didn’t know what they would do to me!” 

“Shh… milady, it’s all right.  It’s just been one big misunderstanding, I’m here now.” 

“Oh, Lev… you _do_ believe me, don’t you?” She kept her face close to Lev’s chest, clinging to his frame like a frightened little kitten. 

_She showed none of this fear in all the time she spent in the cell prior to Lev’s arrival._  Yaku thought bitterly, not that Lev would believe him if he brought it up now.  If he had felt any doubt of her guilt earlier, it was eradicated now.  She knew how to play her cards to exact the most sympathy from her host.  The only problem now was how to investigate her when Lev was granting her freedom.  Yaku wouldn’t be at all surprised if she stole away tonight to never be seen again. 

“Let’s get you home, milady.” Lev kept his arm firmly wrapped around her shoulders and walked her slowly out of her cell, glaring daggers at the General all the while.  But before they left his company completely, Lev turned to him and stood himself as tall as he could, coldly ordering, “I leave you to inform Kuroo of Lord Daishou’s arrival.  Keep in mind his recovery, and don’t overstay your welcome.  I am taking the Lady home with me, and I shall return in the morning, at which time _… I_ shall take full command of the investigations and the search.  Do I make myself clear?” 

Yaku bit his lip, his distaste for the situation plain on his features, but he eventually gave a stiff nod. 

“Again, do I make myself _clear_?” Lev hissed. 

“…yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“…yes.  _Sir_.”  Yaku forced out through gritted teeth, feeling his entire world slip completely out of his grasp with the words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tashirojima is an island of Japan where the population of cats outweighs the population of people. It's cat island! I wanna go...


	7. Evidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo is well on his way to recovery, Lev finds his courage, and Kenma is offered a ray of hope. 
> 
> ===
> 
> I have added Minor Character Death as a tag.

“I really must apologize for your trials this day, milady.”  Lev bit his lip as he passed the tea cup to her. 

The two were seated alone in the drawing room of the Haiba family estate, the fire gently crackling.  It was well past the hour for civilized cats to turn in for the night, but the Lady was quite frazzled still, and Lev refused to sleep until she was safely tucked into bed.  He’d stay up with her all night if he had to. 

“I know the General was merely trying to do his duty…”

“I will not allow him to hide behind that excuse.  He had no grounds to accuse you, no proof.  The end cannot justify the means, and his suspicions of you would’ve reached no fruitful end.” 

“Why does he suspect me so?” she asked, voice breaking.

“I shall be asking him that question myself.  I’ve always known he was cautious, but never to the point of such… paranoia.” Lev sighed, eyes fixed on the burning flames.  “And I… I’ve never spoken to him like that before.”

“You were so gallant, you know,” Mika whispered softly.  “Like a prince to my rescue—I’ve never seen a more commanding presence in all my life.” 

“Gallant…” Lev repeated.  “To speak against a former mentor as I did.  Is that gallantry?”

“He was in the _wrong_ ,” she reminded him.  “To stand up for what is right, what is just, isn’t that gallantry?  You doubt yourself at every turn, but when push came to shove, you took rightful command of the situation.”

“I’ve always looked to Kuroo and Yaku to take the lead, to guide me.  But I can’t depend on either of them right now, and I don’t know if the reality of that frightens or excites me.” Lev admitted.  “A chance to prove myself at last… yet if I should fail, that failure would be all mine.” 

“I don’t believe you will fail.” Mika reached across their chairs to lay a gentle hand on Lev’s arm.  “And when you bring Lord Kenma back, the kingdom will love you as you’ve always deserved.” 

Her touch seemed to jolt him to his senses, and he pulled away from her immediately, moving his uncertain hands to his tea cup for lack of a better task. 

“This is so silly, I’m meant to be attending to you, not the other way around.  What a grand protector I’m turning out to be.  Is there anything else you require this evening?”

“Just your present company is an enormous comfort.” She smiled.  “I think I’ll retire after I finish this cup, please don’t feel you must stay up on my account.  Now that it’s all over, it feels almost a thrill—a grand story to write home about, wouldn’t you say?”

“Speaking of home, wouldn’t you like to return for a time?  In times such as these, wouldn’t you prefer to be with the safety and comfort of your family?”

“Wouldn’t that make me appear guilty?” she muttered.  “Fleeing after coming under suspicion as I have… If I left now, I don’t think I could ever show my face here ever again.  Besides which… I feel safer here.  With you.”

“But… I cannot be by your side as often as I would like to protect you.”

“But you would like to be by my side?”

“I…”

“I’m sorry.” Mika shook her head, folding her ears in shame.  “That was rather forward of me.  And very inappropriately timed.  I think I shall turn in just a touch earlier.  Please give Edgar my apologies for failing to finish my tea.”

Lev continued to sit, somewhat dumbfounded, as the Lady excused herself and made her way back to her quarters.  He sat for long after she had gone, gazing absentmindedly into the fireplace, contemplating his best course of action.  His jumbled feelings aside, he needed to figure out his next move for finding his liege.  It unnerved him to think how strained his loyalties had already become despite taking no acting regarding the Lady.  At last he felt he could understand somewhat the General’s contempt for complications.  To some small degree.

* * *

 

Kuroo awoke the next morning feeling significantly better.  Perhaps not up for sparring with Lev in the sands, but he felt he could walk around at last with ease.  He paced at length around his bedroom in the early morning, an attempt to return some strength to his atrophied muscles.  When his mind grew restless with thoughts of Kenma, he took several deep breaths, counted to ten, and tried to console himself with the fact that he felt no pain, and he knew Kenma was still alive.  The dawn of a new day was always filled with promise and hope.  Kuroo would not allow himself to despair.  That would not help recover his love.

When a knock came upon the door to his chambers, Kuroo climbed back into bed, expecting the morning visitor to be the good Doctor Kai.  And if he wanted to convince the good doctor he’d be fine to resume some normal activity, he had to play his part as a cooperative patient.  He pulled the blanket over his legs, remaining seated up on the bed, then called in his visitor. 

He very nearly pounced straight out of bed to see Daishou Suguru standing in his doorway. 

“What are you doing here?”

“They told me you were ill over breakfast, and I thought I just had to come and see you.” Daishou smiled.  “Whatever our current positions, we were equal once—as children in the Court.”

The Nohebi ruler strolled leisurely into the room, and Kuroo felt the very air grow cold with his nearing presence.  He had to remember himself, whatever his suspicions of Daishou’s involvement with the kidnapping, even if he believed Daishou responsible for his current weakened state… Until he had proof, he could take no action, and he had to feign humility.  Still, it was hard not to hiss when Daishou sat himself casually at the foot of Kuroo’s bed and lay a cool hand on his leg. 

“Whoever heard of a guardian falling ill?” Daishou laughed, ignoring Kuroo’s clear discomfort.  “Especially you, my friend.  The big, strong panther… I don’t recall you ever getting sick when we were younger.  You’ve always been so… hale and hearty.  I’m sure Kenma must be quite concerned over you as well.” 

Kuroo felt a vein twitch in his temple to hear Kenma’s name leave Daishou’s thin lips.  He was gloating.  He had to be.  Every gesture of feigned ‘grace’ and ‘affection’ was dripping with false pretense.  If only irritation could serve as proof. 

“Everyone falls ill sometime,” Kuroo said stiffly.  “But I shall recover quite quickly.  And very soon, I shall be as hale and hearty and as _strong_ as you remember me to be.”

“I can’t wait.” Daishou whispered.  “The whole council seems most eager for your return to health.  And I know how eager Kenma must be for the same.  They must all be so lost without you.”

“That is why we are two.  Lev is currently picking up my slack.” 

“Ah, but… what if something were to then happen to Lev?”

Kuroo narrowed his eyes at the thinly-veiled threat, but Daishou merely shrugged and laughed. 

“I jest!  The chances of both guardians becoming incapacitated remain exceedingly low, I’m sure.  Last I saw him, Lev was quite well.  He’s growing very handsomely too.” 

“You had cause to see him?”

“We came upon one another on the road while he was conducting… routine patrols, he said?  Though I don’t see why a guardian would be appointed for so menial a task, I suppose I can’t complain for he then proved himself an excellent escort for the rest of my journey here!” 

“And how long were you planning on—“

“Until your honorable Lord grants an audience with me and our kingdoms can come to some… amiable agreement.  It’s a shame we can’t just rely upon our old alliance, but I understand the need for Kenma to rule with a firm hand in the early years of his reign.  They are the trickiest, and can make or break his entire authority.” 

“As you said, it being the early part of his reign, Lord Kenma is quite busy with all manner of state duties.  I fear you may be in for quite the long wait if you insist upon staying—“

“I just had a thought!” Daishou snapped his fingers suddenly.  “I’m told Lord Kenma is not available to meet me today, so I thought I’d take in the sights of your beautiful country.  You’re not fit for _duty_ yet, but surely you can accompany me on some light tourism?  You can be my guide—I’m sure the Magisters would have no objections.  As you said, Lev can attend to Kenma, what say you?” 

Kuroo stared flabbergasted at the serpentine snake sovereign.  Daishou was essentially offering himself up for supervision and surveillance at best.  In the more malicious scenario, he was doing everything in his power to isolate Kuroo in order to finish the poison’s job.  Kuroo felt he should worry after his life, and yet… that seemed too hands-on for someone of Daishou’s character… and having eyes on him would be more than advantageous.  Even convalescent, Kuroo felt sure he could at least defend himself against foul play, for when he had his guard up, he had never come to any trouble.

“I’ll… I’ll have to confer with the doctor and get his approval before I go touring the Capitol, but… it would be my pleasure.” Kuroo smiled charmingly, matching Daishou’s grin with pearly fangs of his own.  “Like old times, perhaps.”

“Excellent…” Daishou hissed.  “I’ll await your invitation then.”

With a sly grin, Daishou slipped off Kuroo’s bed and departed his chambers, giving one last wave at the door before ducking away.  Kuroo called to the guards at his door after a little while, instructing them to let no one in under any circumstances.  He desperately needed a shower to wash off that experience, and he wanted to do so absolutely undisturbed. 

* * *

 

“It’s not a bad idea, having dedicated surveillance on him,” Lev mused, standing beside Kuroo’s bed.

He, Magister Nekomata, and General Lev had accompanied Dr. Kai to Kuroo’s chambers—it was somehow a better meeting spot than the Council Room.  Yaku was pacing by the window restlessly, and the Magister was seated at Kuroo’s desk, slumped in the chair. 

“Is it surveillance, or is it Daishou wanting to get Kuroo out of the palace and alone to finish the job?” Yaku wondered.  “Out there, he could devise a hundred schemes and make them all appear accidental.  And if he brings his guardians with him, Kuroo will also be outnumbered.  I can’t recommend you do this, Kuroo—not tactically or strategically.  Tell Daishou you need to rest.”

“I’ve already given him my consent to the task,” Kuroo replied as Yaku threw up his hands in exasperation.  “Such an excuse may delay it a day, even two, but he expects this now.  And I think the risk worth taking.” 

“We can prepare ourselves if we _expect_ an ambush,” Lev considered.  “We can send a team to tail you, keep you and Daishou in their sights so you’re not venturing in the snake pit alone.  If things get… difficult… you’ll have immediate back-up.”

“An excellent precaution,” Nekomata huffed.  “Though it does not preclude the danger.  Kuroo, you are putting yourself at _great_ personal risk.” 

“No one is at greater risk right now than Kenma,” Kuroo replied.  “Daishou likes to talk—he came to my room this morning to gloat, it was plain.  Perhaps he’ll slip or… I might be able to glean some insight from his torrent of conversation.  We are better served keeping him close and under observation.”

“If you’ve already decided to do this, then there’s little point in debating it.” Lev said at last.  “But postpone it until tomorrow while we put together a tracking team for your protection, and get as much rest as you can today.  You’ll need all your wits about you in case of trouble.”

Kuroo gave Lev a somewhat startled look before he let out a strained chuckle and an old, familiar grin.  It had been a long time since he’d attempted anything like an undercover job, and he was glad to see Lev taking charge in his absence.  Seeing his partner flourish warmed his heart more than he could have thought possible. 

“Do we have any other leads?” Kuroo pressed the Magister.  “What of the message sent to Fukurodani?  Have they sent us a reply?”

“None yet,” the Magister sighed.  “But it is a delicate topic to be sure.”

“Even more delicate if they’re actually responsible,” Lev murmured. 

“I still think our best suspect is here,” Kuroo insisted.  “Slithering around our castle and laughing to himself that we can’t arrest him yet.”

“What of the search parties?” Lev demanded Yaku, startling Kuroo with the harshness in his tone. 

“He’s not within our borders,” Yaku sighed.  “If we’re to extend search parties into other jurisdictions, we must either obtain official permissions or send fewer numbers in stealth and secrecy.  At most, they’d be able to send reports back, but they’d be unable to take any official action.” 

“Are those really the only options we have left?” Lev snapped.

“Short of sending out a national alert and dispatching our entire army to fill the streets, yes!” Yaku snapped right back, fuming at the lion still for taking away what he considered his best suspect.

“Gentlemen, please.” Nekomata gruffed, standing from his seat.

The old cat seemed to have aged a decade over the past few days.  Oh, he had always been old, but now it was beginning to show.  Kuroo considered the man family, and knew the Magister felt much the same way.  He had always fretted over Kenma like a father—a good father, albeit a kooky one—and just like a parent, he had been forced to maintain calm amongst the bickering young soldiers.  He looked weary.  Even thinner. 

“Magister, are you well?” Kuroo asked softly.

“As spry as a kitten!” The old cat crinkled his eyes in a deep smile.  “And you are hardly in a position to ask after my health, Kuroo.  When you can stand without risk of keeling over, then you can ask after me.” 

Their playful banter was enough to quench some of Lev and Yaku’s tempers, and Lev gave a long and slow exhale.

“Send the scouts then.  More information is better than none, and I won’t stand for us to sit idly by.”

“It’ll be done,” Yaku replied, eyes to the floor.  “I’ll go select my best men, if you’ve no further need for me.”  Just before he walked out of the door completely, he gave one last, “I’m glad to see you’re recovering well, Kuroo.”

Soon after Yaku left, the Magister also excused himself (“Can’t leave Naoi with _all_ the paperwork, now!”), leaving the two guardians alone to confer.  Kuroo reached for Lev’s hand and pulled him to sit on the bed.

“They were hurting him yesterday,” he whispered.

“I know.  I felt it.” Lev whispered back, biting his lip.

“We have to get him back,” Kuroo repeated desperately.  It was his every waking thought now. _I need him in my arms again.  We have to get him back._

“I know,” Lev whispered.  “We will.  We’ll get him back.  As long as he’s alive—and we know he is—there’s hope.”

“I’m trying to remember that,” Kuroo smiled bitterly, then patted Lev’s arm.  “You’ve really taken charge here, haven’t you?”

“I’m trying my best.”

“I understand that.  But don’t confuse power with brutality.  Yaku’s doing his best too.” 

“He crossed a line,” Lev hissed.  “Arresting Lady Mika from my home without a shred of proof—I’ve no idea what’s gotten into him.  He always used to caution me toward restraint, but he’s proven himself as hot-headed as the lot of them!”

Kuroo was sorely tempted to tell Lev that Yaku’s blood only boiled so fervently when Lev was involved, but now was neither the time nor the place, and he had no right to speak on that matter.  Not unless he sorely wanted Yaku to kick him in the spine.

Lev let out a heavy sigh and ruffled his hair.  “Do you feel as if our enemies are all around us?  I find myself wondering who I can trust if the people I once trusted most are so…”

“You can trust me always.”

Lev nodded silently.  Yes, he could trust Kuroo.  He couldn’t confide in him, and it was hard to think of him as a friend when their positions seemed so unequal, but… he knew Kuroo would never betray him or go behind his back.  Their relationship, while not always amiable or particularly affectionate, was reliable.  Steadfast.  And so it had to be.  After all, they were bound for life.  And Lev thought for the first time that he was maybe… perhaps just a teeny bit… grateful, for that. 

* * *

 

Truth be told, Fukunaga had always wanted to travel.  He rather liked the outdoors, the serene call of nature.  It reminded him of camping trips with his family when he had been too young to be bothered by the bugs and the smells and the dirt.  Now he was an adult, and preferred not to get mud in his hair if he could help it, hated mosquitoes (but who didn’t, really?), and a chill enough air could make his joints grow stiff.  But still, he enjoyed himself in the wild, and the sprawling forests of Fukurodani were really quite beautiful.  Unfortunately, he could pause nowhere for very long to enjoy the sights; he was here on a mission—a mission to find Lord Kenma.

Since he had set out the night before, he’d had only a handful of hours for sleep, but trained black cats were used to much harsher conditions.  And he much preferred scouting missions to ones with espionage.

Dusk was settling in, and while the darkness of night was ideal for covering long distances without being seen, it would impede his ability to notice details in his surroundings.  He would only have another hour or so for anything resembling a fruitful search.  After that, he would either have to slow his pace considerably or squeeze in another small window for sleep.

It wasn’t quite another ten minutes when he heard the sound of rushing water and felt his throat constrict with thirst.  Rivers were a blessing, more so than the bountiful sea, and Fukunaga gave silent thanks to whatever mountain gave this river its flow of cool, fresh water.

Just as he readied himself to catch his evening’s dinner—there were plenty of pike swimming about—he heard voices on the wind, and immediately he slipped into the growing shadows, moving as quietly as he could towards the chattering.  Perhaps a family out on a camping trip of their own.  Or, if he were _really_ lucky—

“Couldn’t ssssssstand another second with that sssssniveling, sssssnooty—“

“Pipe down, Hannah.” 

Fukunaga smiled in the brush.  Rivers were indeed a blessing. 

Now why would a group of snakes bearing the code names of Lord Daishou’s personal guard be wandering around this wilderness of a distant kingdom?  He crept closer and watched as they undressed partially, about to fish for their dinner.  He sniffed in the direction whence they came, and removed himself from them, carefully retracing their steps.  They had been sloppy about covering their tracks—clearly they weren’t expecting any company out here. 

Eventually, he came upon a cave, its entrance somewhat hidden by a thicket of bushes and a close-growing cedar.  He might have missed it if he had passed by it in the dead of night.  He listened intently—surely, if they were keeping Lord Kenma captive here they wouldn’t leave him wholly unattended?  But he heard next to nothing, so at last, he dared draw closer and peek inside, finding his Lord laying on the ground, wrists and ankles chained.  He rushed inside, heart in his throat to see if his liege would stir and let out a breath of relief when Kenma gasped at his touch, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“You—“ Kenma started to speak but the soldier put a finger immediately to his lips, urging silence.

Fukunaga looked around the cave frantically for something, _anything_ that could help him undo Lord Kenma’s shackles.  They’d cause quite a ruckus trying to escape with the metal clanging about his limbs.

“You’re a… a Black Cat.” Kenma whispered.

He had never seen one in the flesh before—if he had, he’d never have known—for they were meant to keep to secrecy.  The Black Cats were a special division of the army, so shrouded in mystery many believed their existence to be a myth.  An elite task for scouting, spying… even assassinations if rumor could be believed.  And here was one now, come to his rescue.  Kenma dared hope he would be home soon.

“My Lord, are you unharmed?” Fukunaga kneeled behind where Kenma sat, examining his restraints.  Strictly speaking, he had been ordered out on reconnaissance, not for rescue, but to leave his Lord in such squalor while he called for reinforcements was unthinkable.  And with the guards away; they would not get another opportunity like this.

“Mostly unharmed.  The most terrible thing is when I want to scratch my nose.” Kenma replied, the relief of seeing another cat bringing back the humor to his tongue.  “How did you find me?”

“The stars are on our side, it seems.”  Fukunaga did not usually believe in such things, but fortune was undoubtedly in his favor today.  “How many took you?”

“There are three.”

“Three?” Fukunaga repeated.  He had only seen two by the river.  “You’re sure?”

“Well I’ve been blindfolded for the journey, but ever since we arrived here, I’ve only seen the three.  I suppose there could be more…”

“We must go.  _Now._   Can you stand?” 

‘Can you run’ was the better question, but Fukunaga had to take things one step at a time.  Once outside and a little ways removed from here, he could smash the chains apart with stone maybe, enough to get them mobility if not stealth.  But first, he had to get him out.

He helped pull Kenma to his shaking feet and doubted all the while that they’d be steady enough to make an escape.  His lord was bruised and sore, hungry and sleep-deprived… they would not be able to make the journey alone, but as soon as they could reach a town… they’d have cover among crowds—he could send a raven, they could pay for a discrete doctor to look over him while they awaited reinforcements…

Fukunaga was so distracted with the manner of rescue, he failed to detect the approaching bloodlust from the shadows, and it was only when he felt the warm blood pour out and run down his body that he felt the sting of the blade sticking through his gut. 

“Nooo!!!”

He heard Lord Kenma scream, but the sound was distant and grew only further and further away—they were hauling him back.  Fukunaga reached out his hand, and the blade was pulled sharply from his body, pulling some of his insides with it, spilling and staining the grass at his feet. 

“M-milord…” There was blood in his mouth too, it drowned out his words.

“No!!!  Stop!!!”

A swift run of the blade across his throat made his vision fade to black, after which, Fukunaga felt nothing. 

The snakes dumped the body carelessly into the river that night, and Kenma sobbed quietly to himself until morning, regretting most of all that he had never asked the soldier’s name. 

Had he asked, he would be lamenting the death of Fukunaga Shouhei, a Black cat who had served the crown for six years, whose name meant _eternal fortune_. 

Fortune, strange as it was, served Fukunaga to an extent, even in death.  His body would not get caught up in driftwood or wander out to the sea where nature would claim it back completely.  Instead, it floated steadily on the river’s current carried to a favorite fishing spot for a local barn owl, who voided his breakfast into that same river after discovering the body.  But despite his weak stomach, he was a good Samaritan, and after hauling the corpse out of the river, he called upon the local police. 

They, in turn, new to the job and confused as to how a murdered _cat_ ended up in their borders, kicked the case upstairs, where it eventually caught the attention of Commander Konoha of the Fukurodani Military Police.  For as _luck_ would have it, Commander Konoha served as security advisor to Lord Kenma’s royal council.  He’d been trusted with the position for several years, and had seen the miserable condition of his lord after _that_ night’s brutal attack.  Maimed by a poisoned blade... he would never forget that sight.  And the sight that greeted him now was the corpse of a Nekoma soldier, dead also from a poisoned blade. 

From lord to lord, Fukunaga’s body traveled; Soon it was laid out before the eyes of Lord Akaashi, who regarded the body carefully as Commander Konoha and his guardian Bokuto bickered beside him.

“The men who killed this cat must surely be the same ones who ambushed our Lord that night.  They are within our lands—we should move to find them and strike them down.” Konoha urged. 

“But why is there a Nekoma soldier—he even looks like a spy at that—why is he here in the first place?” Bokuto wondered with furrowed brows.  “Are they spying on us?”

When Akaashi gave no answer, Konoha replied slowly, “I thought the cats could be trusted.  This one at least is clearly a victim.” 

“But he’s not just some traveling tourist, he’s plainly _military_.  Who’s to say _why_ he was skulking about our lands before he was killed?  It complicates things… I think Nekoma owes us an explanation for his presence here.”

“That’s all well and good, but in the meantime, let me coordinate a search to find who did this.  There’s clear evidence of foul play, and it is the job of the police to find killers and bring them to justice.”

“We don’t know it’s the same group as the ones from before…” Bokuto muttered, eyeing the all-too-familiar injuries on the body before him. 

“We don’t know that it’s not.  But that’s why it’s worth investigating.  Lord Akaashi, please, won’t you share your thoughts?”

Akaashi was circling the body slowly, hand on his chin and brows furrowed in deep thought.  Without raising his gaze, he continued to pace slowly round, muttering low and quiet.

“We received a letter not long ago… I hardly knew what to make of it, and it wasn’t written in Kenma’s hand… sent by his Magisters… disguised accusations while concealing the supposed crime… but this cat...  He wasn’t sent as a spy, he was sent as a scout.  He came to our lands to look for something.  Or some _one_.” 

“Akaashi?”

“Well, look at him.  His attire… Spies sent for espionage don’t skulk about looking like soldiers, they dress to blend in however they can.  Spies are never meant to actually _look_ like spies.  Isn’t that so, Commander Konoha?” 

“But he was still a soldier,” Bokuto noted as Konoha nodded his head beside him.

“Most likely, but…” Akaashi scratched his head, his steps quickening.  “I can’t piece together the whole picture here, but something is… _off_ about the whole thing.  From Nekoma’s letter to this deceased Nekoma scout.”

“Well I have to agree with you there,” Bokuto scoffed, crossing his arms.  “But how do we ask Nekoma what’s going on?  Kenma could just ignore us and pretend he knew nothing about all this.” 

“Continue your investigation, Commander Konoha.  Let us find the ones who did this; there may yet be a bigger puzzle here to solve.  Whatever, whomever you find, I want them apprehended _alive_.”

“By your command.” Konoha bowed and took his leave swiftly, leaving Akaashi and Bokuto to argue about the politics.  The less he had to deal with that the better.

“Konoha is right…” Akaashi whispered, tracing the rotting wound with a long, thin finger.  “This could be the same group that did this to me.”

“If they are?”

“I’ll kill them.”

The answer was so swift it sent a chill down Bokuto’s spine, even though deep down, he felt the same need for revenge Akaashi did. 

“But why a Nekoma soldier?” Bokuto repeated.  “Why would he be here except under order?  What _were_ his orders?”

“I don’t know… But Nekoma is more likely to give us those answers if we return the body home to his family.”

“But… isn’t this… I don’t know, evidence?  We shouldn’t turn him over too quickly.”

“I’ve seen all I need to see here.”  Akaashi said firmly.  “I know you don’t completely trust our young alliance with Nekoma out of concern for me, but this is the diplomatic thing to do, alliance or no.  We’ll send the body off at first light, and after that, let us focus our attention on assisting Konoha with his search.  My concerns lie mainly with the killers roaming loose in our lands.” 

“Are you sure about this?” Bokuto asked.  He, more than anyone, wanted nothing more than the same revenge, but he didn’t want Akaashi to dirty his hands with it.  It had been _his_ failure, was it not?” 

“Don’t question me on this, Bokuto.” Akaashi snapped.  “I’ve rarely been surer of anything else in my life.  Prepare the body for transport.” 

* * *

 

Ten minutes would have been sufficient enough for a lifetime spent with Lord Daishou Suguru.  Kuroo believed this quite firmly.  But he got well over ten minutes of exposure—indeed, he got well over an hour.  In point of fact, he was privileged enough to spend an entire _day_ with the snake lord chattering by his side, and after the first day was concluded, he got another one still!  When Daishou then requested a third day of his company, Kuroo was quite ready to rip his hair out.

“Let’s see in the morning, shall we?” he had replied politely before ducking away with all haste to find refuge with Yaku.

The General had been keeping to himself as much as possible as of late, cooping himself up near the military barracks and spending long hours with his soldiers.  He had to, of course, with all the scouts he had sent out submitting daily reports by raven; he was still sending out search parties for within Nekoma, determined to leave not even a pebble unturned.  Secretly, he had agents keeping watch on the Haiba estate as well, to report any suspicious activity by the Lady Mika and to intercept all ravens flying in and out there.

Currently, he was pacing around his office, grumbling to himself.  That was how Kuroo found him when he poked his head in the door. 

“Thought I’d find you here.  Have you seen Lev?”

“Have _you_ ever heard of knocking?” Yaku scowled. 

“I was in a hurry to find a hiding spot—you’ll have to forgive me this once.” Kuroo said quietly as he slipped inside and closed the door gingerly behind him.

“Two days with him, and you have nothing?”

“Nothing except _far_ too much information about Daishou I never wanted to know.” Kuroo groaned, seating himself in a chair.  “Not like I could pry it from his men either since they never join us—you’re telling me they really do just… lie about the palace all day?”

“I have eyes on them as I’ve sent eyes to follow you, and that’s what they report.  The two spend most of their time in the library.  They eat in the grand hall and sometimes they stroll the gardens, but they never leave the grounds, and they never ask to.  Whatever they’re here to do, it’s not to ambush you.”

“I thought for sure they’d never leave Daishou’s side.” Kuroo mumbled.

“He came to the coronation cerebrations with no guards at all, and for the times we’ve seen him with any, they’ve always been different.  Either he doesn’t have guardians or he goes to a _lot_ of trouble to make us think so.”

“My bet is on the latter.  He’s too cautious to not have _any_.  But it’s quite advantageous to make sure no one knows who they really are.” 

“It’s honestly praiseworthy.” Yaku sighed.  “Even I could never think to be _that_ vigilant.” 

“I grow less wary of him day by day, but I’m sure that’s his exact intention.”

“Will the two of you be heading out on another date tomorrow?” Yaku sneered, and Kuroo threw a quill from his desk at him.

The guardian took a glance at the scattered reports on the desk and opted to change the subject.

“No luck from the scouts I take it?” 

“I’m concerned.” Yaku scowled.  “One of the ones I sent to Fukurodani hasn’t checked in yet, and they were under orders to submit regular progress reports.”

“That could be a sign in and of itself… of Fukurodani foul play.” 

“I’ll wait one more day, then send another agent to look for him.  It’s too soon to point fingers.”

“All the evidence so far points to the owls, doesn’t it?” Kuroo frowned, crossing his arms.  “But my every instinct is arguing against that logic.  Maybe I’m letting Kenma’s fondness for the owls color my judgments.”

“I couldn’t say.”

“Where’s Lev?” Kuroo asked again.

“Home for the night.  He spends less and less time at the palace, and he loses his temper every time he sets eyes on me.  I’ve been attempting to keep my distance.”

“What a mess we’ve become without Kenma…” Kuroo muttered. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt such despair in all my life.  Stars, I can’t let any of it show, but… it eats at me, worse than any poison.”

“But you know he’s alive.”

“But I don’t know if he’s not feeling well.  He’s probably tired and hungry… scared… maybe cold.  He could be feeling hopelessly sad, and I wouldn’t know any of _that_.”

“Perhaps it’s better you don’t.  Your job is difficult enough as it is.”

“I’ve made a mess of it.  I’m a disgrace to my post.”

Yaku crumpled the report he held in his hand and chucked it at Kuroo’s head, bopping him straight on the temple.

“Your _moping_ is what I would call disgraceful.” Yaku huffed.  “Everything else is you abiding by your duty, is it not?  This self-doubt… that’s not the Kuroo I know; not the Kuroo Lev admires, and not the Kuroo Kenma relies upon!”

Kuroo bit his lip, ears folding in shame. 

“Now go—go rest; sleep it off, drink whatever you need to do, but don’t show me that expression tomorrow morning!”

Kuroo smiled.  “What a General you do make.”

As Yaku shooed him out the door, Kuroo resolved to do as he was told: sleep and lighten his heart if he could.

But such a task proved difficult when early the next morning he was intercepted by Lord Daishou before he had even reached the Grand Hall for breakfast.  He wouldn’t even be allowed a peaceful morning meal!

“I trust you slept well?” Daishou asked with a thin smile.  “Myself I always sleep soundly after a days’ adventure.  Though I’m told I sleep soundly no matter the day.”

“A useful talent,” Kuroo replied curtly.

“For today, I had rather hoped—“

“Kuroo!  Kuroo, come quick!”

At that moment, Lev bounded over to them, eyes wide, his tail twitching about in agitation.  Kuroo’s heart leapt to his throat—he very nearly asked aloud if there were news of Kenma but he caught himself and turned to Daishou with insincere regret.  

“Apologies, milord, duty calls.”

Then the two rushed to the council chambers, where they found Yaku and the Magisters already awaiting them beside what appeared to be a crudely-crafted coffin.  Kuroo flung himself toward the crate to look inside, ready to throw himself on Yaku’s sword if the body inside were Kenma’s, but the pale face of a nameless soldier met him, and he near collapsed of relief.

“I thought for a terrible moment…”

“We all did,” Nekomata gruffed, a letter in his hand.  “We have our reply from Fukurodani.”

“…this is their reply?  War?”

“No.  Not as they say.” Nekomata crinkled the paper between his fingers.  “They claim the body was found by a civilian, washed up dead on a river.  After it was reported, it was eventually brought before Lord Akaashi who suspects the culprit to be the same as the ones who attacked him in years past.”

“He died from a poisoned blade.” Yaku confirmed through gritted teeth.

“Lord Akaashi claims he is returning the body to us as a gesture of good faith so that he can be buried in his homeland, his family notified of his terrible passing.  He also claims he is investigating the murder, and that we are more than welcome to send our men into their borders to join the search.” Nekomata concluded.

“They’re not claiming responsibility for this,” Kuroo confirmed.

“It’s only natural that they wouldn’t,” Lev shrugged.  “Maybe a Fukurodani soldier found our spy, there was a scuffle, and he accidentally killed him.  That’s the most innocent scenario I can think of.”

“Or… they discovered Fukunaga was a spy sent to look for Kenma, killed him to silence him, then invented those alternate circumstances for his death.” Yaku spat, his eyes never leaving the cold, lifeless body before them. 

“Then why pretend at all?” Kuroo frowned.  “Why not simply dispose of the body where it could never be discovered and leave us none the wiser?  Why feign an attempt at diplomacy that was only going to be met with doubt and suspicion?”

Lev held up a hand suddenly to silence them all.  Then with two quick strides to the door, he flung them open, and in stumbled an eavesdropping Daishou Suguru. 

“Lord Daishou!” Nekomata fumed.  “To eavesdrop on this private gathering—it is _beneath_ your royal status, sir!  And an outrage!”

“Peace, Magister, pleasssse.” Daishou hissed as he righted himself, shrinking back just a touch as Kuroo and Lev approached menacingly.  “Yes, you’re right, I should not have been listening, but now it’ssssss done!  It’s done, and I can’t un-hear what I’ve heard!”

“You shouldn’t wander around without your guardians, Lord Daishou,” Kuroo threatened.  “You’ve been discovered in a very compromising position.”

“Kuroo, stop!” Magister Naoi cautioned.

But Daishou didn’t back away, nor did he run, as they half-expected him to.  Instead he squared his jaw and stood himself as tall as he could, meeting all of their eyes in turn. 

“My sirs, to hear that Lord Kenma has come to trouble changes everything.  You cannot ask me to sit idly by and not offer my assistance!”

“We do not require _your_ assistance,” hissed Kuroo.

“If you are going to war, there is no army that would refuse extra forces.  Nohebi and Nekoma were close allies in the reign of my father; I wish to honor that allegiance.”

“War?” Yaku repeated.

“Against Fukurodani, yes, of course!” Lord Daishou cried.  “Isn’t this noble soldier’s corpse undeniable proof of foul play?  You cannot honestly believe they are wholly innocent!”

Kuroo and Lev exchanged uncertain looks, and Kuroo recalled what he had told Yaku the previous night: _All the evidence so far points to the owls, doesn’t it?_

“Never fear,” Daishou proclaimed before them.  “I am at your sssservice.”

The snake lord smiled, and it appeared a warm smile, but it sent a chill down Kuroo’s spine he could not explain.  Yet he could see that no one else shared his apprehension, as they all gazed at the fallen soldier before them, all suspicions in their minds turning against Fukurodani. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fukunaga Shouhei wears the number six jersey, his surname Fukunaga meaning Eternal Fortune, and he's modeled after the manekineko. And I did him wrong in this story.  
> -whispers- I'm sorrryyyy
> 
> \---
> 
> This will be my last update for probably over a week, because I will be at Anime Expo next weekend~


	8. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of stuff happens!

“Define ‘gone.’” Yaku snarled, tapping his foot impatiently as he glared at the snake guardian. 

“Do you actually require a definition for that word, or may I continue?” Kuguri drawled, lazy eyes scanning over Yaku’s furious expression, unperturbed. 

He stood before the members of the Council, a letter in his hands—penned by Daishou—and a bored look in his eyes.

“Please, Sir…” Naoi, ever the diplomat.

“Kuguri.” He gave a curt nod of his head before passing the letter to Lev, then moving to hold his hands behind his back. “My Lord Daishou extends his most sincere apologies for—“

Kuroo scoffed loudly.

“—for… his _abrupt_ departure, but he assures he will return as swiftly as he can after conferring with our government on the provisions for war against—“

“We made no decisions regarding that matter.” Nekomata stated.  “ _War_ is not a word to be tossed around lightly.”

“…nevertheless, discussions must begin now.  Just in case.” Kuguri tilted his head a touch to one side.  “And since he is aware of Nekoma’s… _difficult_ situation, and what it must look like for him to depart under present circumstances—“

“You mean how suspicious it looks?” Kuroo snapped.  “I’ll say at that.”

“Goodness me, you cats do like to interrupt…” Kuguri yawned.  “Yes.  Suspicious.  Cowardly.  Questionable.  All of these and more.  Therefore he leaves me here as insurance.  As a prisoner or as a ward… a _hostage_ even.  As proof of Lord Daishou’s word.” Kuguri listed monotonously, as if he’d given the speech a hundred times over. 

“…insurance?” Yaku repeated.

“You’re a _nobody_ —what insurance are you really?  You’re not his family, you’re not his child, we don’t even know if you are one of his true guardians.” Kuroo spat.  “Even if we executed you right this second, I doubt your cold-blooded Lord would bat a single, slitted eye.  This guarantees nothing.” 

“You think very little of us, I know,” Kuguri replied calmly.  “But while my Lord has selflessly offered all manner of help and reassurance, you sit here… _without_ your Lord and without direction.  I wouldn’t think such incompetence could lend itself to such arrogance.” 

“You—“

“Gentlemen!  General Yaku, please resume your seat.” Nekomata raised a hand to take control of the room.  He was the most senior. 

“For now, sir Kuguri, you will be escorted back to your quarters where you are to remain _under guard_ until we require you.”   

“Then prisoner I shall be.” He shrugged, not even offering the courtesy of a bow before departing.  And though he called himself prisoner, he walked away with his head held rather high, tail swishing about as if he had not a care in the world.

“So much for removing Daishou from our list of suspects.  I’d say this moves him straight to the top.” Kuroo grumbled, folding his arms.

“He never budged from the top of your list, Kuroo.” Lev pointed out.  “What I’d like to know is how Daishou got the slip on us.  Even if he did depart in the middle of the night—wasn’t he under surveillance?” He shot an accusing glance at Yaku. 

“He must have caught the guards between shifts or—“

“Every palace has its nooks and crannies… secret passageways… it’s not strange for Daishou to know some of them; he lived here as a ward in our childhood.” Kuroo sighed.  “And there’s no child that doesn’t play at being an explorer.” 

“Do you mean to say that Daishou has intimate knowledge of this palace’s hidden passageways?” Yaku scowled.  “Routes that my soldiers aren’t aware of—routes that could have been used to abduct Kenma in the first place?”

“They wouldn’t be _secret_ if every palace guard knew about them.  Some of those are meant as emergency escape routes, known only to the ruler and the guardians.”  Kuroo bit back.  “Shouldn’t you appreciate such a level of precaution, General?”

“Well clearly they’re not as secret as you boast.” Yaku rolled his eyes.  “If only you and Lev were supposed to know about them—“

Yaku was interrupted suddenly when Lev rose from the table with a start, eyes wide, and a cold sweat forming on his brow.

“Lev?  What’s the matter?” Kuroo grabbed at the lion’s wrist, but Lev batted it harshly away.  “Lev—“

“I must return home.  I… I have to…”

“Lev, we’re not finished here, you can’t just—“ Kuroo stood, grabbing at Lev’s upper arm.

“I have to go!”

The lion pulled roughly out of his grip, marching determinedly to the door, and Kuroo made another attempt to stop him.  This time, Lev lashed out violently, swiping at Kuroo’s chest with his claws and leaving four shallow gashes across the panther’s chest.  They both grimaced from the pain of it, Lev appearing almost stunned, as if he’d forgotten how their bond worked. 

“Lev!” Yaku stood from the table as the Magisters jumped.

Horrified, Lev fled the room, making for home.  Kuroo didn’t chase after him.  The pain in Lev’s chest was awful, but it wasn’t from the strike.  It was guilt. 

_Me and my big mouth…_

* * *

 

Kenma hissed at the sudden pain he felt blossom across his chest, like knives tracing across his skin.  Immediately his thoughts flew to Kuroo and Lev.  Which one of them had been hurt?  Were they out searching for him at this moment, then got caught in some terrible trouble?  His eyes teared at the memory of the soldier cut down mercilessly before him—he didn’t want any more people hurt on his behalf.  Especially not his guardians. 

He sniffed and curled himself into a ball where he lay.  Much of the struggle and resistance he had first put up had fast faded after that near-rescue.  He’d never seen anyone die before. 

It made him consider for the very first time his own mortality in his given situation.  He hadn’t yet considered the possibility that he’d be dead at the end of this ordeal, that he might not ever get to see Kuroo or Lev again.  He tried not to dwell on such dark thoughts, for what good did they do, but his thoughts kept straying to the image of blood and death, and inevitably, his mind would wander back.  He couldn’t sleep. 

“Do you hear something?” one of his snake captors raised a hand, signaling to the others. 

Soon all three were listening intently, sniffing at the air, their bodies tensed for action.  Kenma considered screaming for help, but the thought of causing another death stayed his voice.  If they weren’t soldiers—if they were just innocent locals passing through and his outburst caused them to die… He bit his lip and stayed silent.

One of the three slipped quietly out of the cave to get a better look.  There was tense silence for several minutes, then they could hear faint voices outside.  Kenma steeled himself to hear maybe a cry of anguish as another innocent was run through, but it did not come.  And a few more moments later, the snake returned, and following him into the cave came Daishou Suguru and another snake Kenma had never seen before. 

“Took you long enough,” muttered one of the guards—the surly one—and Daishou chuckled.

“Is that any way to address your lord, Typussss?” Daishou hissed, though his expression was entirely playful.  “Believe me, I’d have stayed a good while longer if that body hadn’t shown up.  I had to… improvise a bit after that.”

“The body?”

“You numbskulls didn’t dispose of it properly, and somehow it ended up on Akaashi’s doorsssstep!” Daishou huffed.  “Then Akaashi, with all his honor and magnanimity returned the body straight to Nekoma with a letter of goodwill—honestly, I doubt at all they’ll go to war now.” 

“So do we abandon the plan?” the one called Typus pressed. 

“Curious though I am to see things play out, I never could get darling Kuroo off my tail.  He remains suspicious of me to the very end.  I can’t tell if it’s instinct or habit.  If I had had more time, I might have been able to get my fangs into Lev.”

“What now, Daishou?” Typus snapped, growing quickly impatient with Daishou’s ramblings.  He had cautioned against all this from the start, and he was loathe to continue at the current state.

“Watch your tone, Typus!” Daishou bared his fangs, his eyes sharp. 

But they softened quickly again as he caught sight of Kenma, huddled in the back corner of the cave.  When their eyes met, Kenma turned his gaze immediately away, and Daishou clicked his tongue.

“Ohh… tsk tsk tsk… look at you, milord Kenma… the state you’re in!  You’ll have to excuse my men, they really are such brutes.” 

Daishou knelt down beside the feline lord and gripped his chin with cold fingers.  Kenma pulled his face free and spat, his hatred for Daishou rekindling some of his spirit.  But the snake lord calmly wiped the spittle away on his sleeve, humming lightly.

“Now now, let’s not be so childish.  That isn’t how rulers negotiate.”

“You think I’ll treat with you after all _this_?” Kenma rattled the chains that bound him. 

“Well, there isn’t much to negotiate really… From here on, I’ll just be enjoying myself before I kill you and bring Nekoma to ruin.” Daishou said nonchalantly. 

“Even without me, our armies would overwhelm yours in half a day.  That’s a war your kingdom won’t win; you’ll lead your people into ruin.  Kuroo won’t stop until—“

“Kuroo!” Daishou gripped Kenma’s face roughly, eyes wide with an almost manic gleam.  “He does _perssssist_ in getting in my way at every turn, doesn’t he?  Not even poison can stop him, it seems… or maybe he’s just lucky…”

“You… p-poisoned…?”

“I really thought it would be him, you know.” Daishou continued, ignoring him.  “To wear the crown.  I was shocked to hear the next Ruler would be _you_.  Shy, quiet little Kenma, who always ran away and was helpless without Kuroo to hide behind…  I remember.  But after the shock, well… then I began to feel a sense of pride, actually.  Not in you, mind.  I would be a Lord, and Kuroo would not, and it felt like I had bested him at last.  An end to our childhood rivalry.  But then you named him your guardian, and I saw how perfectly content he was to be merely your protector, _happy_  even!  To be by your side alwayssss… and why was that?  What exactly is so special about _you_?!”

Daishou turned Kenma’s head roughly, as if to study his profile, his claws digging into the soft skin of Kenma’s cheeks.

“I don’t know what he sees in you.” 

Kenma turned his head back to face Daishou, glaring with all the fury he could muster, though he knew how little it was worth.  And yet, fear would just not do.  Whether Daishou believed him worthy or not, Kenma was ruler of Nekoma, and he wouldn’t just roll over for the snake’s pleasure. 

“Still have a little fight left in you then?” 

“I don’t need much,” Kenma growled.  “For a jealous snake who can’t handle rejection?  I need less rage and more patience, truly.” 

“You do like to run that pretty mouth of yoursss…” Daishou hissed, his pupils dilating.  “Do you think Kuroo would still love you if I cut up that pretty face?”

Fear flashed across Kenma’s face before he could stop it, and Daishou smiled slowly from ear to ear.

“And Kuroo would know… he’d know before he ever found you, because he’ll feel it too.  He’d feel the pain across his cheeks, and he’d know what was happening to you.  He’d _know_.  Maybe he won’t come for you after that.  Maybe he won’t want to see you at all.”

Kenma tried to keep himself from trembling, but he couldn’t stop the goosebumps rising on his skin nor his breath from quivering. 

“Ah, but…” Daishou put a finger to his chin.  “But I _want_ him to look for you.  I want him to come to me; I want to see the look on his face when I rob him of his most _precious_ prize.  So maybe we shouldn’t risk that.” 

Relief flooded Kenma and he hated himself for being so afraid.  He had never once thought of himself as beautiful, but to imagine that Kuroo could cringe upon looking at him… perhaps he had been more vain than he knew. 

“Shave him.” Daishou called to his guards.

“Come again, sssssire?” one of them hissed, though the grin on his face was plain. 

“His hair, his tail… all that lovely, gold… shave it off.  It offends me.”

Kenma’s wails echoed through the forest. 

* * *

 

Lev felt several sharp pains across his scalp as he ran, but he couldn’t be made to stop to consider it.  He rushed without pause for breath.  As soon as he reached his family’s estate, he threw open the doors and ran across the grounds, searching the gardens, the drawing room, the study… He was almost to the guest bedroom itself when he ran across Edgar in the hall.

“Master Lev!  What—whatever is the matter?”

“Mika… Lady Mika—where is she?” Lev could scarcely breathe.  “I need to see her, where has she gone?”

“Well I… I believe she said she was going to the market in the Bay—do you believe that she’s in danger?”

“No, Edgar,” Lev sighed, at last clutching at the pain he felt on his head, the prickling, pinching sensation that ran its way across the skin.  “No, I think I’ve been a bloody fool.”

“Sir?”

“I’m going to the bay then.  If she returns, do not tell her I’ve come to look for her—act as if nothing is out of the ordinary; do you understand?” 

“Young master, please calm down.  Why don’t you sit a spell, it’s possible she’ll return momentarily, and there will be no need for you to exert yourself.  You look in pain.” 

“I doubt she’ll return, Edgar.  In fact, I doubt we’ll ever see her again.”

Lev grimaced as he felt a sudden, biting pain at the base of his tail—as if someone were tugging at it roughly—and he bit his lip as Edgar fussed over the expressions he made.  But this pain wasn’t his, and he had a sinking feeling it wasn’t Kuroo’s either.  And though the pain wasn’t severe, it was sharp and inconsistent—as if Kenma were attempting to fight back or pull away—and it hurt his conscience more than his body.  Evidently, Kenma’s struggles were in vain.

“You look unwell,” Edgar pleaded.  “Please sit—let me bring you some tea and medicine.  You’re clearly overworked and stressed.”

“This pain isn’t mine,” Lev moaned, slumping onto the floor.  “It’s not _mine_.  But it’s my fault.  If I had been a better guardian…”

“Lev… this burden isn’t yours to bear alone.”

“The fault is mine Edgar.  Me and my big mouth, my naivety… There were things I never told Alisa that I told _her_ , and while I was utterly charmed, she must have sold the information or…”

“Or what?”

A soft voice startled them both, and they turned to see Lady Mika standing before them, her mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“Lady Mika!”

“So even you do not trust me,” she muttered, eyes to the floor.

“There are things I’ve told you that I should never have shared.” Lev whispered through gritted teeth.  “Information I didn’t know the value of.  You’re not meant to know it.” 

“Secret corridors behind the walls and hidden doors in stairwells?” she smiled sadly.  “You think it’s so secret, but everyone knows such hidden nooks and crannies exist in every castle.  There may well be several even in this manor you call your childhood home.” 

“But the details of their location…”

“Like teacher, like pupil… you take after the General quite well.” 

“Mika, tell me true.  Where do your loyalties truly lie?”

“You ask me because you do not know.  You don’t know when truly you should.”  Tears sprang to her eyes.  “I’ve no wish to answer you.”

“My lady, I have my duty—“

“Put me under house arrest then, or throw me back into the dungeons, whatever your preference!  But I tell you now, if you don’t intend to arrest me this instant, I shall leave of my own accord, return to my family, and never again come back to this despicable place!”

They looked at each other in a long silence.  When Lev could say and do nothing further, for lack of evidence, or perhaps because of heartbreak… the Lady let out a choked sob then turned on her heel and ran away to her room.  Lev too felt a warm wetness on his cheek, which he stubbornly wiped away, ignoring Edgar’s pleas to reconsider, to run after her.

“Young master, please.  You must be mistaken—“

“Whether or not I am, I can’t _trust_ her.” Lev whispered, before bringing himself to his feet and marching off, intent on returning to the palace.  “In the end I couldn’t bring myself to trust her completely.  I think that speaks volumes for what’s in my future.” 

“Master Lev—“

“I must return to the palace, Edgar.  It’s where I belong, I now know.  And I’ve a duty to my Lord I must fulfill.  Let the Lady leave when she will, I no longer care.”

“Master Lev!” And here did Edgar dare to lay his hand upon his master, grabbing at his wrist to stay his retreat, eyes pleading.  “Whatever your duty, whatever the outcome of this mess, ever will this be your home and we your family.  You can belong to more than one place and be tied to more than one person—or, in your case, two.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Edgar, I do.”  Lev gently detached himself.  “But I’m a guardian of Nekoma, Lord Kenma’s lion.  I can’t let myself be fooled again.”

And with that, he made his way back to the palace, steeling himself for the several apologies he would need to make to the Royal Court.

* * *

 

The plan had been simple enough—so simple, Konoha almost couldn’t believe it had worked.  Since their only lead was that the body of the Nekoma soldier had been discovered adrift in the Noctua River, he had sent his men to search the forests along its course upstream from where the body had been found.  Their lands were vast and sprawling, and they needed some restrictions with which to narrow their search area.  Even so, their efforts yielded nothing in those first few days.  Now as Konoha flew over the river’s southernmost streams, he was shocked to hear signs of life echoing up from the forest beneath him. 

A wailing—low and quiet from beneath the tree tops.

Silently, he fluttered down into the trees near where he heard the distressed cries and eventually found himself upon a cave with traces of blood on the ground nearby, and inside… conversation.  Konoha dared not venture too close, but he heard the unmistakable snakelike hissing that colored their speech, and he knew he had found them at last.  Heart in his throat, he braced himself to fly, but froze when he heard a distinct,

“Not so beautiful now without all your finery, are you, milord Kenma?”

_Kenma?!  Nekoma’s Lord Kenma?_

Konoha brought himself lower to the ground and considered inching closer, to see if he could get a proper look inside, but the instant he rounded the corner, he could see figures standing guard.  He’d risk discovery if he got any closer, at the worst, he’d end up like the dead soldier they returned.  But there was no reason to doubt what he had heard.

Lord Kenma had been kidnapped, was being held prisoner on their lands, and he had to be off at once. 

As quietly as he had descended, he retreated and took to the skies once more, flying at top speed to the palace to report to Lord Akaashi.  The snake in the grass had been discovered at last; it was time to grasp it firmly by the head and put an end to its poisonous slithering. 

* * *

 

“Lord _Kenma_ , you said?” Akaashi rose immediately from his seat.  “Did you see him?”

“No, my lord.  I could not get close enough to see, but I know what I heard, and—“

“Much has become clear…” Akaashi muttered to himself as he began pacing the throne room.  “Why Nekoma soldiers are on our lands in secret, why the carefully phrased letters sent by Nekoma’s magisters instead of the Ruler… They couldn’t let it be known their Lord was taken.  And they likely held us under some suspicion…”

“Suspect _us_?” Bokuto huffed.  “But we’re allies, and we’ve only ever shown them hospitality and grace!” 

“They are being careful, Bokuto, as you always are.  If it were me, I know you’d reserve judgment on them too, as they have done.” 

“That’s different.” Bokuto crossed his arms.

“Your orders, my lord?” Konoha cut in, bringing both back to the present task.

“Yes.  Prepare for departure, Commander.  You, Bokuto, and I will set off for Nekoma at once.  We shall retrieve Kuroo and Lev and whatever soldiers they wish to spare.  Then we shall all go together to rescue Lord Kenma from those brigands.” 

“Akaashi, there’s no need to risk yourself.  Konoha and I can go alone—“

“You forget, Bokuto.  There is evidence to support that these snakes are the same ones who ambushed us that night.  I mean to exact my revenge as well as rescue our friend.  Make no mistake, this is a selfish decision.”

“But—“

“I’m going.”

“My Lord, Bokuto has a point, however clumsily made.” Konoha interjected.  “This may be more than a simple reconnaissance and recovery mission.  We might enter into some very real danger, and your duty to your kingdom dictates you shouldn’t recklessly throw yourself into harm’s way.  Even Bokuto!”

“What about me?”

“The danger you put yourself in affects our Lord as well.  If it can be avoided, I’d rather the two of you not get involved on the ground level.  Let me go with a selection of my men to resolve this.  I shall treat with Nekoma in your stead and—“

“Bring as many men as you wish, Commander Konoha.  But I insist upon going.  If you think I’ll be a hindrance to you…” Akaashi flapped his one wing and lay a steady hand on the sword at his belt. 

“I’ve no doubt of your skills for battle, my Lord, but—“

“Give it a rest, Konoha.” Bokuto sighed.  “Akaashi is more stubborn than even me, and you shouldn’t be questioning your sovereign’s decisions anyhow.”

“You’re one to talk,” Konoha scoffed, but he gave up the argument.  “But… in the end, I shall do whatever my liege commands.”

So the three set off immediately in a hastily-drawn carriage, despite the fact that it was mid-afternoon already, and they would have to ride through most of the evening and well into the night before they reached their destination.  And yet, it was a matter of _some_ urgency, for they didn’t know how long Lord Kenma had been missing.  They sent a raven on ahead to forewarn the cats of their arrival and instructed their coachman to ride the horses as fast as possible. 

Akaashi knew they’d be faster if only they could all fly.  Tiring though the journey would be, they could manage the distance in a quarter of the time it would take by carriage.  And the more Akaashi thought of how that was lost to him, the stronger his urge to face the villains himself. 

“We’ve many reasons to be cautious, and we must tread lightly.  The two of you are to leave all the discussions to me, is that understood?”

Both Akaashi and Konoha’s eyes flew immediately to Bokuto, who posed the only real diplomatic nightmare in their company.  The owl guardian rolled his eyes in frustration and crossed his arms with a huff. 

“Yeah, I get it.  ‘Bokuto, keep your mouth shut.’” He bristled.

“Fond as I am of you, you are not made for diplomacy, my love.” Akaashi smiled.

“You are brawn, not brains, my friend.” Konoha laughed.  “But with that being said, you are impressively brawny.”

Bokuto’s muscles flexed almost automatically and a sneaking grin perked up the corner of his mouth.  All he needed to do now was preen his feathers and he’d be less great horned owl and more peacock. 

“Well… no guardian is ever chosen for their loquations!” Bokuto grinned.

“You mean loquaciousness.” Konoha corrected.

“I meant… elocution!” Bokuto snapped.

“I’m impressed you made that recovery!” Akaashi gasped.

“Akaashi, I wish you’d have more faith in me…” Bokuto moaned, shoulders slumping.

“I do have faith in you.  Just not in your vocabulary.”

“And yet, his vocabulary is better than his spelling,” Konoha mused, laying a finger to his chin.  “It’s a blessing you’re not required to write extensive reports.  The last one I read was so atrocious I—“

“Bokuto, stop!”

“Bokuto!”

The guardian had unfolded his wings in irritation inside the cramped carriage, and soon they were all fumbling about a mass of grey and white feathers.  The coachman ignored the commotion in the cabin behind him and urged the horses faster. 

* * *

 

Akaashi wasn’t exactly expecting a warm welcome, but he hadn’t expected the open hostility he was met with at all fronts upon reaching Nekoma.  Tensions were high in the palace; even the sentries by the gates were afflicted, and no one gave their party even a passing polite smile until they were led to the Royal Hall, where even Magister Nekomata’s greeting was less than sincere. 

“Your sudden raven was unexpected, to say the least, but appreciated.  It allowed us a little time to prepare to greet you, my lord.  I’m sure your journey was long and tiring—“

“I know the pleasantries are required of your post, Magister, but I would like to get right to the reason we’ve come.  May I meet with your full royal council?”

“Lord Akaashi, to call the full council at this hour would be quite uncouth… Lord Kenma has already turned in for the night to rest, and—“

“I know Lord Kenma is not here; you’ve no need to pretend.” Akaashi urged.  “We’ve discovered where he’s been taken to; thus, we’ve come to inform you, to ask assistance of his guardians—“

“I will summon the council presently.” Nekomata bowed, his lips drawn tight.

“We will wait here, myself and my company.”

Once the Magister left them, hurrying as fast as his age would allow, Bokuto muttered low,

“So they suspected us after all.”

“They are being rightly cautious.  Kenma has spent less than a year on the throne; such instability so early in his reign would cause much commotion among their people, and it would no doubt stir the ambitions of neighboring kingdoms seeking to grab hold of their fortunes.  Our alliance itself is new—I understand their every hesitation.” Akaashi said softly.

“I still think it’s a bit of an insult.” Bokuto pouted. 

“Then be angry for the both of us.  But don’t you dare let it show.” Akaashi warned.  There was little he could do to placate Bokuto’s temper on the subject, but to point out how contradictory he was being would only upset him further. 

“Don’t let it show?” Konoha chuckled.  “Surely you know your guardian better than that, my lord.  I’m not sure Bokuto’s been subtle a day in his life.” 

“He’s managed it once or twice, I think,” Akaashi mused.  “But come, both of you, let us be serious.  We are here to deal with a very grave situation.”

“What if they suspect us enough to refuse to help?” Bokuto wondered aloud.

“Then we save Kenma on our own.”

“That’s assuming they then let us leave.” Bokuto grumbled.

“What are you on about?” Konoha asked, but they were joined in that moment by Magisters Nekomata and Naoi, General Yaku, Kuroo, and Lev. 

“I hope you’ll pardon my intrusion at this late hour, but I considered the matter quite urgent.  We’ve found where Lord Kenma is being held.” Akaashi addressed them the instant they approached him, standing firm and hoping they would see well enough into his character to trust him. 

“Is this a trap?” Lev questioned immediately.

“Lev—“ Kuroo raised a hand to silence him, but Lev blundered on. 

“If you found him, why didn’t you rescue him then and there?”

“I was scouting,” Konoha stepped forward.  “I was alone without back-up, and I would have been severely outnumbered by their lot.  I think the soldier you lost should be proof enough of the brutality we’re dealing with.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Akaashi interjected, a silent order for him to stand down.

“And instead of returning for reinforcements from your own men, you ride all the way here instead?” Lev pressed.  “If you thought it so urgent, why take the time for this journey?”

“Lev!” Kuro hissed, but Bokuto had grown impatient. 

“These are gestures of good will and generosity—watch your tone when you speak to my lord, cub!”  The owl opened his wings menacingly, but that only incited Lev further.

“There was an owl feather discovered the morning Lord Kenma went missing.  The only evidence we’ve managed to find, and it implicates _your_ people.  We have every right to question his motivations, and I do _not_ answer to you!”  Lev roared, the hair rising on the back of his neck.

“Lev, that’s enough, stand down!” Kuroo snarled, the hint of a roar coloring his voice. 

“You trust them too easily, Kuroo!” Lev whirled on him.  “You were on high alert with Daishou and still he gave us the slip—we must be more cautious, even against those who would paint themselves as our friends!  No, _more_ so!”

“Lev, you’re being disgraceful, listen to Kuroo.” Yaku cut in.

“Kuroo does not command me, and I answer to _you_ even less!”

“Lev.” Kuroo’s voice was quiet, but it pierced the hall when he spoke.  “If you do not calm yourself this instant, I will call upon the guards to remove you.” 

“Are you threatening me?  We are partners, you and I.”

“Even so.  For the General speaks true; you are behaving shamefully, and you are unfit to represent our kingdom in this room.”

“It is you unfit to be guardian!” Lev flared, standing his ground.  “Where is your outrage, your ferocity?!  These owls kidnapped our lord and would play us for fools!  We are deceived at every turn—“

The hall echoed with the slap that rang out from Lev’s cheek where Kuroo struck it.  In the moments that followed, many things occurred at once.  Firstly, Lev jumped at Kuroo.  Far from being pacified, the lion was quick to anger and would not be diminished or dismissed any longer.  The instant Lev jumped, Bokuto pulled Akaashi back and away from the fray, thinking first and always to preserve the safety of his liege.  The Magisters called for the guards—too late, and they were too far.  Kuroo braced himself for the brawl, but a splatter of blood froze him in place.  Lastly, General Yaku fell to the ground, clutching at the gushing wound on his neck. 

“Yaku!!!”

Kuroo fell to his knees instantly to pull the General into his lap, examining the damage.  The cuts were shallow, but more severe than the earlier injury Kuroo had sustained from Lev.  But even shallow cuts were a danger when inflicted upon the neck. 

He was handed Magister Nekomata’s coat, and he pressed it tight to Yaku’s wound, which was still bleeding, but it appeared Lev had missed the artery at least.  Otherwise, there would be far more blood.  Magister Naoi ran for the doctor as Yaku coughed and spasmed.  Had he been just a bit taller, he’d have been struck in the shoulder or the chest.  But as it were…

“Yaku, you idiot…” Kuroo mumbled as the blood stained the fabric through, coloring his hands red. 

Lev fell to his knees, gazing in horror at the blood, lips trembling.

“N-no… I… I didn’t mean for… I didn’t—“

The lion reached out a blood-stained hand toward the General, but Kuroo swatted it angrily away, calling again for the guards.

“N-no... Hgck!  No!” Yaku coughed, one hand resting above Kuroo’s on his neck.  With his other, he reached for Lev, straining to move his head so their eyes could meet. “L-Lev…”

The lion stared, frozen for several moments before he gently took Yaku’s hand into his own, tears spilling from his eyes when he felt the weakness in the General’s grip. 

“I didn’t mean… I’m so sorry…”

“Lev… you…” Yaku choked out.

“Yaku, don’t force yourself to speak.” Kuroo urged.

“Shut up, Kuroo.  Lev, you giant… oversized… _fool_!” He coughed and gripped Lev’s hand as tight as he could.  “You idiot, you imbecile, you… Hngh!  You never stop to think… same as ever… your head in the clouds!”

Lev could do nothing but nod his head, helplessly agreeing with everything the General rasped out—he hadn’t been so moronic since he had been a trainee, and he was rightly being scolded like one. 

“Yes, I know… I’m a dimwit, I’m all these things, I’m so sorry—“

“I don’t… I’m not angry at you.  For this.” Yaku wheezed.  “You’re a colossal dolt… you never think things through… but I know… I—I know you were just… hgck!  You were just worried for Kenma.  And… maybe it’s my fault too for being so paranoid lately—“

“No!  General Yaku, please don’t blame yourself, it’s all my fault, I—“

“Lev.” Yaku coughed.  “Stop it.  Stop… just stop trying so damn hard.” 

The doctor arrived then, followed by a small team of infirmary staff bringing a stretcher, and Kuroo immediately moved aside so they could take Yaku away for proper treatment, but Lev refused to let go of the General’s hand.  Only when Kuroo laid a gentle hand on Lev’s shoulder to make him see that Yaku had passed out did he at last release his grip.  Stars, what on earth was he becoming?

“Can I… go with him?” Lev asked the doctor, but Kuroo’s grip held him firm.

“No, Lev.  Let the doctor do his work in peace.  Your place is with me.”

“But I’m—“

“Lev, please.” Akaashi cut in.  “We need you as well to save Kenma.  Isn’t your duty first to your Lord?”

“The General will be fine,” Kuroo insisted.  “I’ve seen him survive worse, believe me.”

“Truly?”

Kuroo gave a slow nod of his head and ruffled Lev’s hair.  With that hopelessly remorseful expression on his face, he looked just like the cub freshly appointed guardian.  Young and stupid.  And yet, it was much preferred.

“Whereabouts was he discovered?” Kuroo asked of the owls.

“On a southern rivulet of our Noctua River.  Not the closest to your borders perhaps, but a reasonable location to hide.” Konoha offered.  “There is a cave system there, tunneling into a nearby cliff face; though I do not think they ventured very far in.  It is possible they do not know the terrain well enough.”

“Do you?” Kuroo pressed.  “Know the terrain, I mean.” 

“Not half as well as I should like.” Konoha admitted.  “Those areas are largely uninhabited by our people.  The forests are not tall and dense enough to support treetop homes, and the cliff side too barren and far-removed from fertile grounds and trade.”

“Well I don’t think any of us expected this to be easy.” Kuroo allowed himself a smirk.  “I wish to leave tonight, but you’ve only just traveled all this way—“

“We didn’t fly.  We are not tired.” Akaashi assured the panther.  “And it is a long ride; we can rest on the journey back.  I suspect we won’t get close until near dawn, and then we must travel the rest of the way on foot through the forest.” 

“I would have asked the General to join us, but such as it is, it’ll be just myself and Lev, I think.”

“Kuroo, might we have a word before you depart?” Nekomata spoke up.

“Magister, there is little time—“

“There is time enough.  Please, Lord Akaashi, take this time to freshen up as best you can before you set off again.  We’ll only be a moment.”

“I thank you for your hospitality, sir.”

Akaashi gave a small nod of his head as an attendant led them to a nearby drawing room and sent for tea and refreshments. 

Once the cats were alone, Magister Naoi spoke low in hushed tones.

“We are defenseless while you’re gone.  Both guardians away, the General incapacitated… and even if Lev spoke rashly earlier, he posed a worthy point of consideration—it could still be a trap.”

“At the least, I know there is no stopping you, Kuroo, but let Lev stay.  We can’t afford to lose the both of you too, and perhaps even the General would take some comfort in keeping Lev close to hand.” Nekomata added. 

“Add his recent outbursts… he’s not entirely fit for this operation.”

Lev bowed his head in shame before the Council as they spoke around him, reprimanding him without ever addressing him directly.  It made him feel a child, but he had behaved as much, hadn’t he?  His voice quivered.

“They’re right, Kuroo… I’m not fit for duty—“

“Lev’s place is with me.” Kuroo spoke firmly, speaking above them all.  “If it _is_ a trap, then I am defenseless without him.  We are meant to work together for situations such as these.  As for the General, he has a capable second-in-command, does he not?  I’ve only ever heard the highest commendations for Brigadier General Yamamoto; call on him if you feel you must.” 

“Kuroo…” Lev choked.  “But I… I hurt you.  And I hurt General Yaku.  And I offended our allied lord, and—“

“And after all that, if even the General can still place his faith in you, I would be a poor partner to not do the same.  We are bound for life, thee and me.  And in our many years to come, we will both make mistakes and our faith in each other will be tested.  But ever we should both know the true character of each other’s hearts.  Tell me what you think you ought to do in this moment.”

“I… I think… I want to rescue Kenma.” 

“And that’s the way of it.” Kuroo declared to the Magisters, who looked at each other uneasily but with resignation. 

“I would keep close watch on our Nohebi guest while we’re away.  I’m sure Yamamoto will be happy to oblige in dealing with our scaly friend.”

“Brigadier General Yamamoto promoted and acting General?” Nekomata chuckled.  “I shudder to think what might happen in your absence if you take too long.  I shall pray all the harder for Yaku to make a swift recovery.”

“Please… when he awakes… please tell him I’m sorry.” Lev pleaded.

“I’m sure he’s well aware already.” Nekomata smiled.  “You look yourself again, Lev.  I trust you’ll bring our lord safely home?”

“I swear it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back from AX and my sleep schedule is all wonky, but at least I can still write! Somewhat.
> 
> We're getting to the home stretch now~ Hang in there, Kenma!


	9. The Snake in the Grass

Although Kuroo and Lev had agreed that Kuroo would remain awake for the first half of their journey for Lev to sleep, and then later they would alternate, Lev was finding sleep immensely difficult.  One could argue it was due to trying to sleep inside of a moving carriage, but Lev had always been the type who could fall asleep anywhere at any time.  In truth, his mind was wrought with worry about the General, and then he began to feel guilty for worrying more about Yaku than about Kenma. 

“Can’t sleep?” Kuroo murmured.

“No.”

“Me neither.” 

 _Yes, but you have the first watch_.  “Do you really think we’ll find Kenma like they said we would?”

“I have to hope so.  Otherwise, I think I’ll go mad.” Kuroo admitted.  “But even if we don’t find him tomorrow, I’ll feel better knowing we tried _something_.  I was losing my mind being stuck inside the palace without direction.”

“You didn’t appear that way to me,” Lev muttered.  “Or rather, I knew you were feeling ill and maybe a little irrational, but you never seemed on the edge as you say.” 

“I had my moments, believe me.  You just weren’t around to see them.” 

“No, I was off trying to be… I’m not quite sure what.  I’d like to think I was trying to better myself as a guardian for Kenma’s sake, but looking back now, it feels like a failed sort of vanity project.  And that maybe my intentions weren’t as honorable as I would like to believe.” Lev sighed.

“I think that sort of thing happens to us all at some point.  You just hit yours at a later point in life.  And you were encouraged by external forces, no?”

“Do you mean the kidnapping or are you talking about Mika?” 

“Both, really.”

Lev gazed silently out of the carriage window for a time.  The monotony of unchanging scenery as they left Nekoma territory was usually a soothing sight.  Tonight, it only made him restless.

“Nobody ever told me.” He said at last.  “That love could turn you into such a fool and make you do such stupid things.”

“You loved her then?”  Kuroo raised a curious eyebrow.

“I’m not sure.  I think I did.  I don’t think I realized until I felt what must have been heartbreak at thinking she had betrayed me.  Isn’t that pitiful?”  Lev laughed bitterly.  “But who finds their destiny with their first love anyway?  It seems like such a fairy tale now.”

“The lucky ones do,” Kuroo said softly.  “Some have to try a little harder.  But it is worth trying for, Lev, believe me.”

“You say that while being unattached yourself.” 

“That’s not true,” Kuroo said abruptly.  “I’m attached to Kenma… and you.” 

“That’s not quite the same thing.” Lev pouted.

 _It is._   Kuroo thought _.  I just haven’t been entirely forthcoming about it.  But after we rescue Kenma and put this entire ugly business behind us, I’ll tell you everything, Lev.  You deserve to know.  We should have told you much sooner._  

“Try to get some sleep,” is what Kuroo said aloud instead.  “At least one of us should be rested come morning.”

“What about you?”

“I was a soldier in a war, remember?  I’ve dealt with much worse.  Now at least close your eyes and lie down.” 

Lev opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it and instead did as he was told.  He had done enough arguing in recent days, and it had only ever brought him trouble.  He had to remind himself that it usually did him good to listen to his more experienced partner.  This proved only too true when it only took a few minutes after he closed his eyes for him to fall right to sleep.

The motion of the carriage jerking to a stop woke him several hours later, and he stretched as best he could inside the cramped carriage.  A soft knocking came upon their carriage door, and they opened it to find Lord Akaashi.

“The carriages will leave us here, the horses can’t continue through the forest; we must venture the rest of the way on foot.  Konoha has flown on ahead to scout.”

“Understood.” Kuroo groaned as he disembarked. 

He was glad for the walk and a chance to stretch his limbs.  As small as the carriage had felt for himself, he could only imagine how much smaller it must have felt to Lev, with his long, gangly limbs.  But the lion voiced no complaints as he climbed out of the carriage, albeit stiffly.

With Bokuto leading the way, they walked quietly through the brush, wary of speaking even in hushed tones in the growing dawn.  Lev seemed pensive; or perhaps he just wasn’t fully awake yet.  He trailed behind at the slowest pace, eyes roaming the surroundings.  Akaashi too seemed lost in his own thoughts as he marched, fingers fidgeting nervously on the hilt of the sword at his belt.  Kuroo soon found himself keeping pace with Bokuto at the head of their party.  The owl guardian appeared almost sullen, and Kuroo was close to asking him why when he spoke first.

“This is dangerous.  Akaashi shouldn’t even be here.”

“I get the feeling you wouldn’t have been able to stop him no matter how hard you tried,” Kuroo answered softly.  “But you are right about the danger.  I feel the consequences of this may be even greater than any of us fear—do you know all this might come to war?”

“War?”

“This mess is not some random act done by nameless brigands… I am almost certain Lord Daishou is behind all of this.  And if he is…”

“Then Nekoma and Nohebi will go to war,” Bokuto understood.

“I’m not sure how else to respond.  After such a blatant attempt on Kenma’s life, it would be folly to allow Daishou to walk away unscathed.  I rather fancy wrapping my hands around his throat and killing him myself, but… supposing we spare him, the council will inevitably encourage war lest the crown appear weak and cowardly.  Supposing we kill him, Nohebi will not just let the regicide slide without consequence.  The outcomes are ugly either way.  And the only part I can’t understand is why Daishou would go to any of this trouble.” 

“Ambition is the obvious answer,” Bokuto muttered.  “Except Nohebi doesn’t have much of an army.  Open war is the last thing they’d want for themselves.  A quiet assassination is more their style.”

“It is.” Kuroo agreed.  “They poisoned me.”

“But you survived.  Because Kenma is depending on you.”

Kuroo was grateful for the vote of confidence; it was more reassuring than he could have anticipated. 

“Lord Akaashi has been truly generous to our plight.  I’m not sure how to fully express my gratitude.”

“Save it for after we actually find your little lord.” Bokuto grinned.  “What can I say?  He’s extremely fond of Kenma.”

They heard a sudden rustling in the tress above them, and they all braced themselves.  But it was only Konoha reporting back, a touch breathless as he fluttered down.

“We have to hurry,” he insisted.

“What’s happened?” Kuroo asked, heart in his throat.

“I was spotted; they’re on alert now, or perhaps they mean to flee.  We have to be swift if we don’t want to lose them!”

Neither Kuroo nor Lev needed much further encouragement than that.  Konoha led the way, half flying to spur his legs faster on the ground, but the cats kept easy pace with him, their paws padding silently along the forest floor.  When they reached their destination, Kuroo and Lev darted into the cave without hesitation, only to be met by an expectant Daishou and five other snakes, as well as—

“Mika!” Lev cried.

She was standing behind the snake soldiers, next to Daishou, who bared his fangs in a wide grin to greet them. 

“Welcome, welcome!”

Akaashi, Bokuto, and Konoha followed in moments after, and Daishou laughed. 

“And now it’s a party!”

“Cut the crap, Daishou!” Kuroo snarled.  “Where’s Kenma?!”

Daishou shrugged nonchalantly.  “Who’s to say?  I’m afraid I’m rather unfamiliar with the area, and I know even less about these caves.” He gestured to the inky black tunnel behind him.  “He ran off somewhere… into there.” 

“Let Mika go!” Lev shouted suddenly.

“Lev…” she whispered into the caverns, her brows furrowed. 

“Would you like to speak to him, my dear?” Daishou turned to her, wearing an amused grin.

“Lev… you really were an easy mark.”

And suddenly her expression was cruel and cold, and Lev felt a chill seize his veins.

“Mika…”

“Why are you surprised, my Lyovochika?  Hadn’t you grown to suspect me after all?  It certainly took you long enough to get there.  Despite all the voices of reason around you.” 

“It can’t be…”

“Edgar gave me quite the send-off, you know.  All apologies and remorse… claims that you would one day come to your senses and that he’d be only too happy to be of service to me again in the future.  He’s a bigger sap than even you, my _lion_.”

“Don’t call me that…”

“Why would you betray your nation this way?” Kuroo stepped forward, a hand on Lev’s shoulder to help steady him.  “You’re a cat like myself and Lev—what on earth could Nohebi offer you to make you turn tail?”

“What does race matter?” she whispered as she wrapped her arms around Daishou’s waist.  “There are things all creatures of the world would do for _love_ …”

Kuroo recalled a sudden memory—an afternoon spent with Kenma as a kitten.  They had climbed together up a tree and sat upon a low-hanging branch, plucking apples and chucking the cores on the ground.  Daishou had been there—young and haughty, with none of his now-feigned humility.  He had asked to join them, and like a petulant child, Kuroo had refused him.  The young snake didn’t have many friends in the Nekoma Court… Kuroo and Kenma had done little and less to make him feel welcome, so wrapped up in their own world as it were.  But Daishou had had the one companion… a lone kitten who provided him kind smiles and a willing ear—offering him company and a chance to boast about himself. 

“You’re _that_ Mika…” Kuroo realized. 

“Of course I knew you wouldn’t recognize me.  My avoidance of you was an extra precaution, but truly, I had no need to worry—you only ever had eyes for Kenma.”

“You left Nekoma to follow Daishou…”

“You see, my dear friend,” Daishou smirked, laying a kiss upon the lady’s cheek.  “Even a lowly sssssnake such as myself can inspire loyalty in others.  It was only ever my mistake to desire _your_ approval.”

“And my mistake to ever trust her!” Lev roared, moving to strike, but Kuroo held him back.

“Tell us where Kenma is.” Kuroo repeated.

“A one-track mind as ever.” Daishou sighed as his guardians laughed around him. 

“This is a waste of time,” Akaashi snapped, unsheathing his sword as he stepped forward.  “Go look for Kenma, we will fend off the ones here.”

“Three owls against five heads of my hydra?  My, what confidence!” Daishou laughed.  “And only one true guardian at that—odds like that might entail you losing your other wing, Lord Akaashi.  I’d walk away if I were you.”

“Bluff all you want, Daishou, but the ancient magics don’t permit you more than two guardians, however much you might like to pretend they do.  The bulk of your hydra is comprised of hollow threats—a smokescreen.  But it will be easy enough to determine your true protectors once we begin cutting into your men.”

“Such confidence… They don’t even know between themselves the truth, but you think it _so_ easy to decipher.  But it’s a simple matter—they merely need to cut you down first.”

“Daishou, stop this!” Kuroo roared.  “What is any of this meant to achieve?!”

“A ruler has no obligation to answer the mewls of a lowly guardian!” Daishou hissed.  “Kill them!  Kill them all!”

Before any of them could attempt further questioning, Daishou’s five guards darted forward, all unsheathing their swords and slashing the air with abandon.  Steel clanged against steel and echoed against the cavern walls.  Kuroo and Lev had but daggers—their style of combat was better suited for wrestling in close quarters.  The owls had drawn their swords, though Bokuto brandished his talons as fiercely as his blade. 

What surprised them all within moments of beginning the fray was Lev’s sudden ferocity.  The lion roared loud and clear, paralyzing more than half the people around him with his reverberant rage, tinged with sorrow.  And then he lunged at his nearby assailant, slashing at his sword hand with his sharp claws.  The weapon fell to the ground with a clatter—now useless to its former wielder, who screamed and clutched his wrist where Lev had nearly ripped off his hand entirely.  The sight was ghastly.

Lev’s eyes flew to Daishou, who stood in plain shock, mouth gaping, but not at all in pain.

“That’s one down… and he’s not a guardian at all.

“You—“

“On your feet, Naja!” one of the snakes screamed to their near-dismembered comrade.  “You’ll disgrace us!”

“Hngh…” the cobra hissed, his forked tongue flickering with the pain, but he shakily pulled himself to his feet, attempting to face Lev once more. 

“Stand down,” Lev growled, pulling himself up to stand tall and menacing.  “This is your last warning.  After this, I _will_ kill you.” 

“You dare think yourself above me?  None of the hydra fear death, cub!”

And as he attacked, so too did the others—but the snakes seemed uncertain, quick to defend and hesitant with their offensive.  They were afraid of further injury to their number and what such truths those would reveal.  For so long they had coached themselves not to ask, not to know who the true guardians were among them.  It was taboo to know such things.

Naja could do little to defend himself against Lev’s continuing onslaught, and within another few moves, he was felled by a powerful kick to his chest.  Lev threw him to the wall, where Naja’s body crumpled to the floor, broken.  Lev let out a victorious roar as Daishou hissed in anger.  The other snakes began to fall back, flinching at the echoing snarls and shouts—despite Lev’s sonorous roaring, Bokuto’s cheering might have been the loudest of all. 

“Is that the best you can do?!” The horned owl taunted, blowing great gusts of wind with his enormous wings as he laughed. 

“Don’t retreat, stand your ground!” came a new voice, and all heads turned to see yet another one of Daishou’s snakes join them, approaching from deep within the caves. 

“Typus!” Daishou called.  “What kept you?!”

“It’s no easy task to navigate these caverns—all to hide a body…”

Kuroo’s blood ran cold, but he had to remind himself: If Kenma had died, he would have felt it.  He would know, he would always feel it.  No, Kenma was alive; he just needed to find out where.

“Are you one of the true guardians?” Kuroo asked the new addition to their chaotic melee.  “Or just another disposable pawn?”

Typus gave no answer, looking instead to the unease in his comrades. 

“Or no, I suppose that’s a delicate question… Since apparently none of you know who the true guardians are among you.  Never to know if the snake beside you would fight to the end as your comrade or give you up as sacrifice to protect the ruler he’s bonded to… I’m sure the capacity for such betrayal lies in one or two of you at least.”

“What of it?” one of the snakes hissed, standing guard across from Konoha.  “It’s an efficient way to defend our liege.  Not like you pampered mammals who wear your titles like targets on your backs—it’s only too easy to move around such obvious obstacles to get to your sovereign!”

“Such candor carries risk, you speak truth.” Akaashi spoke suddenly.  “But without it, there can be no trust.  Such connections are mutual contracts, forged from ancient magics first used among families—siblings and spouses.  It goes without saying the guardians devote their lives to their ruler, but the reverse is also true.  It is the ruler’s duty to his guardians to avoid endangering their lives, and to spare them from such tasks as would besmirch their honor.  Without that trust, it is an impossible task.”

Bokuto nodded knowingly as Akaashi spoke, golden eyes glowing with a fierce protectiveness.  Lev and Kuroo looked to each other, knowing now that in the midst of true chaos, they would always rely upon each other, despite whatever quarrels they may have.  They fought harder together and harder for each other. 

“You have your ways.  We’ll keep to oursss.” Daishou hissed.

But discontent had begun to brew, and Typus stepped forward, standing to face Lev as his new opponent.

“Ever while I am one of the two, still I am a comrade to every soldier of the hydra.” He declared while drawing his sword. 

“Typus!”

“Traitor!”

“My loyalty to Nohebi is steadfast!” Typus argued against a chorus of hisses.  “And though I will fight to protect the life of my lord and my fellow guardians, I am done with the secrecy… and I wipe my hands of this disgraceful business.” He threw his sword to the ground at Lev’s feet.  “Take your lord and go.  He’s within—two lefts then a right, and you’ll find him.”

“Typus, you dare to—I will kill you myself!” Daishou screeched. 

“Do as you must, I won’t resist you.  But kill me and you destroy a part of your own self—a loss you will feel forever.” 

“Kuroo, Lev!  Go!!” Bokuto shouted suddenly as he flapped his mighty wings, distraction enough for the cats to slip past Daishou into the deeper veins of the caverns. 

“No!  After them!!” the snake lord commanded, but his soldiers could not move as the owls grew closer; Typus doing nothing to aid them. 

“Turning your backs on us now would be a death sentence,” Konoha smirked.  “The odds grow more in our favor every second.”

“One of you is discovered—will the second reveal himself as a courtesy?” Akaashi asked, almost playfully. 

One of the four still hostile stepped forward, artfully twirling a curved blade. 

“If you’ll permit me an introduction… Among us, my name is Atrox.  I’ll admit nothing as to whether or not I am a true guardian, but I challenge the Lord Akaashi to fight me head-on without hiding behind his grand protector.” 

“Your purpose in that challenge?” Bokuto asked, suspicious. 

“Stand down, Bokuto.  I have never refused such a request.” Akaashi bristled, brandishing his own finely crafted blade.

“I am pleased.  I’ve a wish to clip your other wing and complete my collection.” Atrox grinned from ear to ear, and Akaashi recalled an old line spoken in a familiar voice.

_Let’s clip your pretty wingsssss…_

“It… it was _you_!”   

“I always intended to take both wings from you that night, but the fates were against me then.  Time was of the essence, as well as secrecy.” Atrox shrugged.  “Not so now!”

He dashed forward, slashing wildly at Akaashi, who only just managed to get his guard up in time to parry the blows.  The owl lord kept pace with every jab, every slash, but it left no room for a counter, and his hands were unsteady.  It wasn’t fear, he told himself, but his knees quivered beneath him and a cold sweat formed on his brow.

_I am not afraid!  I have overcome much to stand here across this snake, who stole my skies!  I must not fear!_

But whatever his mind tried to reason, his body moved slow and sluggish, as if the air were water and some horrid phantom held a firm grip on his heart to keep him still. 

“It warms this cold blood of mine, Lord Akaashi…” Atrox whispered as he feinted an attack to the left merely to twirl around and land a crushing blow with his weighty tail.  “To think I could still hold such influence in your life so long after that night.”

“You hold… no… power over me.”

Akaashi gasped, clutching at his side.  He shook his head furiously at Bokuto, who had moved to help him—this was _his_ fight and he would see it through to the end. 

“You have _no_ power over me!!!”  Akaashi let out a desperate cry and pulled himself to his feet, slashing at the air with his sword.

“Bring those pretty feathers to my blade!”

A sudden spasm of pain—phantom or real, he could not tell—lurched through his shoulder where his wing had been, and Akaashi froze.  A moment’s hesitation, but that was all it took to decide the tide of battle.  The curved blade came hurling toward his chest.

Blood splattered across the ground, stained Akaashi’s clothes… It was cold on his cheek. 

A moment later, Atrox fell to the ground, dead.  Bokuto stood over him, painted in the same cold snake blood, relief etched across his features.

“Bokuto…” Akaashi whispered as he fell to his knees.  His entire body shook uncontrollably though he could not understand why.

“I did it this time!  I protected you.”

* * *

 

Two lefts then a right had been the instructions, but the passageways were long and winding, not to mention dark.  Even with directions, it felt only too easy to lose one’s way.  Through the inky blackness they dashed, Kuroo running himself breathless, the desire to see Kenma so palpable it was as if some force were pulling him inexplicably faster toward his liege love. 

After they took the last right turn, they slowed their pace a touch, not wanting to run past Kenma by mistake in the darkness. 

“Kenma!” Kuroo called, his own voice answering back.

“Kenma!” Lev repeated to the same effect.

“They might have gagged him.  He may not be able to answer us.” Kuroo added, feeling around in the darkness for Lev’s hand.  The passageways grew wider around them and the last thing they needed was to lose each other.  “Stay with me, Lev.”

“Do you think that snake could have lied to us?” Lev began to fret, grasping Kuroo’s hand tight. 

“I won’t deny the possibility.  But… there was a sadness in his eyes I want to believe in.  The others seemed displeased enough with his revelations.”

“Maybe… I just… Kenma!”

“Lev?”

They heard a faint voice answer from ahead of them, and Kuroo nearly ripped Lev’s arm off dashing forward toward the sound. 

“Kenma!  We’re here!  We’ve come!” Kuroo shouted as he ran. 

Soon they reached an area where the walls grew further outward.  They heard a sniffle from somewhere off to their right and they rushed toward it.  In the darkness, Kuroo could just make out a faint silhouette, and he let go of Lev at last to kneel down and cradle Kenma in his arms.  Just the feeling of Kenma’s weight braced against him—Kuroo feared he might break down and weep with joy. 

“K-Kuro…” Kenma sniffed miserably, torn between burrowing into Kuroo’s strong, familiar arms and pushing him away so he couldn’t witness his dreadful state. 

“Shh… we’re here now.  We’re going to take you home.”

“We’re sorry we’re so late.” Lev whispered, kneeling and taking one of Kenma’s hands in his own. 

“Lev… Kuro…” And then Kenma couldn’t hold it in anymore, and the tears spilled from his face in great streams.  He hiccupped and gasped as the sobs racked his body, relief and fear overwhelming him in alternating waves. 

Kuroo pulled Kenma closer to his chest and brought a hand up to his hair, feeling the newly shorn head against his fingers.  His brows furrowed in horror, but he said nothing. 

“It’ll be okay now.”

Kenma wailed harder when he felt Kuroo touch his head and the lack of hair there.  What would Kuroo think once he got a proper look outside in the light?  He looked a wretch, he knew.  And his spirit was broken.  If Kuroo were to reject him now, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

“Lev.” Kuroo said quietly between Kenma’s sobs.  “I want you to take our carriage and take Kenma home at top speed.”

“What about you?”

“I’ve a matter to settle with Daishou.” He snarled, growling so low it was barely audible, but Kenma could feel the reverberations in Kuroo’s chest.  “But Kenma needs to go.  He needs to get out of here.  And I’ve no one I trust more than you for the task.” 

“Tell me you’re not planning something reckless!” Lev reproached him. 

“Kuro, no… Please!  Let’s all go home.  _Now_.  Let’s be done with it, _please!_ ” Kenma pleaded, wrapping his arms around Kuroo’s middle as tight as he could.  Images of the dying soldier flashed in his mind’s eye, and the fear gripped him harder than any shame. 

“Kenma.  Go with Lev.  I promise to follow right after, as soon as I can.”

“Kuro, please… don’t do this.”

Gently, ever so gently, Kuroo pried Kenma off him, passing him into Lev’s arms slowly and with great care.

“Lev, I’m counting on you.”

There was a silence in which Kuroo was sure Lev was debating whether or not to argue the point against him, but eventually the lion said,

“Don’t take too long.  And don’t you dare get hurt!”

“Lev—no—put me down.  Don’t let him go, don’t let him do this!”

Kenma struggled, but he was weak and tired, and Lev lifted him gingerly before running back in the direction they came.  Kuroo followed swift on his heels, bracing himself to face his old snake friend.  When they reached the exit, they found two more dead from when they had left, two of the remaining snakes sat clutching their wounds, Daishou mirroring them as Mika stood by helplessly.  Their owl companions looked mostly unharmed, save for a few minor scratches across Bokuto’s arms and face.  In the air, the distinct smell of blood.  And death.

“Kuroo!” Bokuto cried happily.  It was clear that none of the blood on his person was his own.

“Oh… Oh my lord Kenma…” Akaashi said a moment after as Lev stepped further toward the light. 

“Don’t…” Kenma whimpered, burying his face into Lev’s chest.  “Don’t look at me, _please_.” 

The owls averted their eyes respectfully, but Kuroo took a long, hard look at his disgraced lord, burning the image of misery into his brain.  He would use it to fuel his rage. 

“I’m taking Kenma home.” Lev declared, moving swiftly past them all, keen on removing his liege from all of their prying eyes.  He knew they meant well, but…

“Lev!” Akaashi called to him.  “There’s a traveling cloak in my carriage.  Please take it for your lord.  I wish you both a fast and safe return home.”

Kenma said nothing, still shaking, but Lev gave a grateful nod, then he was off. 

“Am I to assume, since you’re staying behind, that you mean to kill me yourself?” Daishou hissed as he pulled himself up to stand. 

He clutched at a wound he did not have, a wound that one of the snakes writhing on the floor in agony wailed over—a sword wound low on one side of his abdomen.  There was a fair amount of blood. 

“I will ask you again.” Kuroo snarled.  “Tell me why you did this.”

A long silence followed.  It appeared to Kuroo that all the humor, all the intrigue and secrecy had gone from Daishou’s face.  All that remained was exhaustion, maybe even a hint of resignation.  The snake lord reached for Mika’s hand and held it tight.  A small comfort, for the end of his short-lived reign.

“Does it matter?  It’s done.” Daishou sighed.

Kuroo roared and moved to grasp Daishou by the collar, shaking him violently.  Daishou’s remaining three guardians could do nothing to help, as each one was held at sword-point by an owl.  Mika shrieked as he was pulled from her, but she could do little more than grasp at herself on the floor. 

“Does it matter?  _Does it matter_?!” Kuroo hissed.  “You dare say that to me now after everything you’ve done to Kenma, to Nekoma, even to your own bloody kingdom?!  War and ruin could have been the _only_ outcomes of your actions; what were you thinking?!”

“He was thinking of you,” Daishou’s guardian—one of the true—Typus, spoke up at last.  “Of revenge… recompense… Ever have you been a sore spot in his eye, a blemish to his mighty pride… and thus a plague to our kingdom as well.”

“What on earth for?” Bokuto asked, confused.

“For behaving like a child when he was a child.” Daishou admitted, a terribly sad look in his eye.  “Children are cruel, thoughtless, selfish… They understand so little of the world and reject everything they can’t immediately comprehend.  We know then only the simplest of concepts: Beauty, strength, even wealth to a degree.  I lacked beauty and strength and was thus scorned by many.” 

“But that’s nonsense!” Akaashi was flabbergasted.  “For such a trifling—“

“Trifling?!” Daishou hissed.  “You, with your beauty and your privilege… you are lord of a long-established, vast, and powerful kingdom.  You, who have inherited the world, how dare you dismiss the pain of those who have to bow and bend and scrape to be recognized?!”

Daishou clawed at Kuroo’s arms, leaving streaks of red across the skin, but the panther did not release his grip, ignoring the pain.  He would apologize later to Lev and Kenma about that. 

“You are a ruler—“

“A ruler of a barren, small kingdom with nothing remarkable to its name!  My predecessor bequeathed to me a near-empty treasury, fledgling relations with neighboring kingdoms, a dispirited citizenry… There is no room for honor if we wish to survive!  And no room for virtue if we dare hope to thrive!”

“But Kenma had done _nothing_ to you!!!” Kuroo roared.  “Whatever your quarrel with me, Kenma has—“

Daishou screamed and tore himself out of Kuroo’s arms suddenly, reaching for his sword.  Kuroo swiped it out of his hands almost immediately, his claws tearing into the scaly skin of his hand and arm.  Daishou cried out and fell to his knees, and the panther guardian advanced upon him, baring his fangs and raising a clawed hand upward.  He could not afford sympathy now. 

“No!  Please!”  Mika flung herself between them, tears streaming down her face as she threw out her arms.  “Mercy!  I’ve no right to beg this of you, but mercy!  Please!”

“I should kill you too for the deception and heartache you inflicted upon Lev.” Kuroo growled.

“Yes.  Lev has every right to kill me.  But from you, I beg leniency.  Or at the very least, take my life for Suguru.  I am nothing compared to the burden he shoulders; he is a lord and Nohebi needs him!”

“His reign is _finished_!” Kuroo slashed at the air between them, but ultimately, he backed away. 

Killing innocents had never been his strong suit.  And despite everything they had done, he was not immune to pity.  In a way, he felt responsible for everything somehow.

“He’s right…” Typus muttered as he crept closer to the injured guardian beside him.  “Even if you spare us now, our diplomatic relations have been shattered.  The crown will go bankrupt… the people may even revolt.  And they’d be right to do so.  We risked all, and we have lost.  We have lost everything.  Nohebi will fall to utter ruin.”  

The injured snake began to sob, perhaps from the pain or perhaps from the pain of defeat.  He clung to Typus as best he could as he struggled to take even breaths.  His life continued to pour out of him in cold streams of red.

“Mamba… I’m so sorry.” Typus whispered as he tried to wipe the sweat from his companion’s brow.

“You… and your… blasted… honor…” Mamba rasped.  “But still… to know at last… to whom I am truly bonded.  I’m relieved to know it is you, my friend.”

“Hiroo…”

“I cannot pretend sympathy for your plight,” Kuroo spat.  “I still have every desire to tear your head from your shoulders and leave you for the vultures to find and pick apart.  But… But you are still a ruler, and you owe a debt to Kenma, not me.  Not to mention a debt to the people of Nohebi for this and any future sufferings they must now endure because of your actions.”

“No kingdom will treat with me after—“

“No.  They will not.” Akaashi stepped forward, laying a hand to the shoulder of his missing wing.  His feathers were bristling with anger, but he presented more calm than Kuroo.  “As much as I may despise you for what you ordered your man to do to me… genocide will never be an action I condone.  I care for my people deeply; I have to believe that there is something in you that feels a trace of affection for your own.  If you do, then the way ahead will make itself known to you.”

“…abdication.” Daishou whispered.

“…is but one of the tasks ahead of you.” Kuroo added harshly.  “Another thing you must do is prostrate yourself before Kenma after he is well again and accept whatever judgment he passes upon you.  Far be it from me to execute you before Kenma is given the opportunity to decide his own justice.”

“As prudent as ever, my dear Kuroo…” the snake lord scoffed wearily.  “Truly you have always been better suited to wear the crown.  More suited than Kenma.  More than me.  If they had crowned you instead, what games we could have had… you and I.”

“I’m no ruler.  I never have been, I am a guardian.  What a fool you’ve been, Daishou.  All this time you’ve had your eyes fixed on me for a feud that’s entirely in your head.  But what of the people around you?  The suffering you’ve caused them…”

“A result of the suffering you caused me.” Daishou sighed.  “Mika, my darling… Numai, my true friend… Hiroo, my most loyal… It can’t be overstated how I’ve wronged you.  Please… remember me better than I am.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue left!


	10. Epilogue

To say that the days following Kenma’s return home were eventful would be the understatement of the century.  In the aftermath, Daishou, Mika, and his guardians turned themselves in without any further struggle, and the Magisters worked tirelessly to determine the best course of action for both kingdoms.  Gifts of thanks and appreciation were sent in droves to Fukurodani, none of which Lord Akaashi was allowed to refuse.  As for Kenma, he spent his first several days confined to bedrest and heavy monitoring—he was malnourished and his body much weakened.  The good Doctor Kai permitted visitors only on the strict condition that they not discuss any matters of state or his time spent in captivity.  He forbade all stressors and committed his staff to monitor Kenma’s condition around-the-clock.  Yet it was plain to all that the damage had been done psychologically—his body was not so ill as all that. 

For the first few days, Kenma refused all visitors, including his guardians.  Neither Kuroo nor Lev were permitted to see him, even when Kenma eventually began to meet with the Magisters.  Despite that, Kuroo spent every day pacing the hall outside Kenma’s room, the mere proximity providing him some comfort.  Every morning he brought fresh flowers for the nurses to place beside Kenma’s bed, a letter tucked inside for his lord to read.  Some days he passed to them Kenma’s favorite foods or books.  They’d report back to him that the books were always read, the foods always eaten, even the letters always read then neatly kept beside the bed.  But still, Kenma would not permit Kuroo to actually see him.

Lev, meanwhile, frequented the infirmary to visit the General.  He was forbidden to see his lord, and Kuroo was fretting enough for the both of them, really.  In many ways, the lion tried many of Kuroo’s tactics on the General—gifts and foods… plus a heaping portion of conversation. 

The General was quite fond of Lev’s visits, though the first one had consisted mostly of tear-filled apologies and half-hearted lectures.  It was hard to say anything along the lines of ‘I told you so’ when he was so genuinely remorseful and sad.  His favorite student’s first true heartbreak… it irritated Yaku more than anything.

“You cut your hair.” Yaku noted when Lev came for his daily visit.  “You look like a cub again.”

“I think it’s more appropriate this way.” Lev beamed, running his hand through the shortened, silvery locks.  “Before I definitely looked like I was trying too hard.  And besides, it’s nice to get all that hair off the back of my neck.  And out of my face.” 

“You look good.” Yaku agreed.

A flush colored Lev’s features, and he cleared his throat nervously. 

“Kenma still won’t let us see him.”  Yes, a depressing change of subject was exactly what they needed.  “Kuroo won’t show it or say it, but he’s probably about to lose his mind.  It breaks my heart to see him pace outside Kenma’s door the way he’s been doing.” 

“I would say to give him time, but this is maybe unexpectedly long.” Yaku said with furrowed eyebrows.  “You said Kenma will meet with the magisters?”

Lev nodded his head miserably.  “But not myself or Kuroo…”

“Perhaps he’ll agree to see me…”

“You’re under orders to rest too!”

“I’m nearly completely recovered, and if I spend another day cooped up in here, I’ll join Kuroo in losing _my_ mind!”

“Well if… If you’re sure…” Lev mumbled, his fingers curling into the sheets at the side of Yaku’s bed.  His eyes flickered repeatedly to the bandages wrapped around the General’s neck.  Certainly he seemed well enough, but…

Yaku raised a fist to bonk Lev upside the head, and the lion let out a miserable wail before falling forward across the bed and into the General’s lap. 

“I’m just worried is all!  You didn’t have to hit me!”

“Worry about Kenma, not me!”

Yaku gave Lev’s head another light smack for good measure before giving that silvery head an affectionate ruffle.  “Now get up, you big noodle, you’re heavy.”

“But you’re comfortable…” Lev whined, wrapping his arms around the General’s waist as he burrowed his head further into his lap.

“What are you, a cub?”

“More a cub than a fearsome lion,” Lev grumbled.  “And cubs need pampering.”

“I’m not your mother, Lev.”

“No, absolutely not!  You’re my… Hmm…” And here Lev lifted his head at last, staring into Yaku’s eyes intently, their faces mere centimeters apart.  “My teacher.  And my friend… But something else too.”

“Something… else?”

“You’re very important to me, General.” Lev whispered softly.  “Kuroo and Kenma are important to me too, but in different ways… I just can’t figure out where to place you.  You’re not quite family…”

“Lev, you’re blabbering.”

“I’m not quite sure what I’m trying to say.” 

With an exasperated huff, Yaku shoved Lev’s head back down into his lap, running his fingers through Lev’s hair to placate him… and to hide his own growing blush.  He scratched behind Lev’s ears and the mighty guardian began to purr lightly, the muscles of his back relaxing—he’d never heard Lev purr before. 

“You are absolutely ridiculous,” Yaku scoffed.

“I’m sorry, General…”

“Like that, for instance.” He huffed.  “Honestly, by this point, I think you can just call me Yaku, don’t you think?”

The purring sound paused for a moment, and Lev murmured the name gently, testing the sound on his tongue.

“Yaku… Yaku.  Yakuuuu… Yahhhh-ku.”

Yaku was regretting it already.

“But Kuroo calls you _Yaku_ ,” Lev realized. 

“And more people call me _General_ ,” Yaku chuckled.  “Suddenly you want something exclusive with which to call me?”

“I do.”

“Well you’ll be hard-pressed to find a name that—“

“Morisuke.”

“…”

“…Am I being too cheeky again?” Lev asked when the silence dragged on to an uncomfortable length.

Yaku sighed, covering his face with both hands. 

_Stars, give me strength…_

* * *

 

Although Akaashi had suffered no time in captivity, he knew what it was to have his body violated.  He didn’t know it, but his behavior was much like Kenma’s upon his return to Fukurodani—sullen, withdrawn… Konoha urged Bokuto to say nothing, to give Akaashi adequate time and space.  But three days was all Bokuto could stand of uncomfortable silences, avoidance of eye contact, and having to sleep in his own bed in his own room.  Bokuto understood mood swings and depressive slumps, but he went through several a day.  Very rarely did they last over half an hour. 

“Akaashi…” he whined one night as he escorted Akaashi to his chambers after dinner.

“Good night, Bokuto.” Akaashi said curtly before turning to head into his room. 

The guardian put out his arm to block his path, staring into his lord’s face though Akaashi would not return the favor and look at him.  “Come on, Akaashi… talk to me.”

The owl lord sighed, turning his eyes to the floor.  He expected this would happen eventually.

“Shall we take a walk then?”

Akaashi hated nighttime strolls, ever since that night.  Although wary, Bokuto followed without question and let Akaashi lead the way down and out to the cliffside courtyard.  A half-moon lit their way, the starlight blocked here and there with light cloud cover.

“Looks like it might rain tonight,” Akaashi noted.  “Judging by the clouds…”

Bokuto said nothing.

“Every time I think I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’ll never fly again, I see something like this… A beautiful night sky with clouds I want to fly up and touch.”

“Akaashi…”

“I thought killing him would bring a sort of peace.  Obviously, it wasn’t going to grow back my wing, but I had hoped for some small modicum of closure.  I prayed for it for so long.  And at the end, it wasn’t even me who killed him.”

“Are you angry with me?” Bokuto asked quietly.

“What?  No… Oh… Bokuto, is that what you thought?”

“I… I wasn’t sure if—“

“Bokuto, you saved my life!” Akaashi took his hands into his own, kissing the knuckles gently. 

“I thought you were upset.  Or disappointed… Maybe that you would even resent me.  It was meant to be _your_ revenge, and I stole that from you, I—“

“Oh, Bokuto…” Akaashi touched Bokuto’s cheek.  “Truth be told, I don’t know what I feel.  Equal parts relief and disappointment perhaps, but any disappointment I may feel is not about you.  I promise you that.”

Bokuto nodded his head slowly, running his thumbs over Akaashi’s knuckles where their hands were joined. 

“I wanted to kill him for so long, I didn’t give a single thought to holding back.” Bokuto said softly.  “It was only later… when I watched Kuroo spare Daishou’s life that I thought I might have done something wrong.  That restraint… so that Kenma could be the one to cast judgment… Kuroo is an excellent guardian.  Though I may never say that to his face.”

Akaashi smiled softly.

“It’s true.  He showed a restraint I don’t think even I could have managed.  If I had been given the chance, I wonder if I could have managed such a thing like mercy.” 

“Why did you freeze?”

“I wish I knew.  I’ve thought about it almost non-stop since then, but I can’t put my finger on what stopped me.  I think… I was afraid.  After all that training, all that preparation… all my grandiose declarations and bravado.  When it came down to it, I froze.  I just froze.”

Bokuto pulled him suddenly into a tight embrace, his strong arms enveloping Akaashi’s frame with a grip so tight, he could scarcely breathe.

“B-Bokuto…”

“I’ll protect you, Akaashi!  I swear it!  I’ll always protect you; I’ll never fail you again!  So please…” He pulled away, gripping Akaashi’s shoulders firmly.  “Please don’t be afraid anymore!”

“I’m not afraid.” Akaashi smiled.  “I was afraid then, but I’m not afraid anymore.  I’ll never be afraid of nighttime strolls or traveling through forests… With you beside me, I know I have nothing to fear.”

His hands moved to cup Bokuto’s face, and he turned it slightly so that he could better see his guardian’s face in the moonlight.

“Now now… why on earth are _you_ crying, Bokuto?”

“I’m… I don’t know…” he sniffed.

“Really, you’re so emotional.” Akaashi chuckled, leaning up on his tip-toes to kiss away a tear making its way down Bokuto’s cheek. 

“Does this mean you forgive me now?”

“I keep telling you, I was never upset with you to begin with—“

“So I can come back to bed?”

“Yes, of course.”

Bokuto let out a wide grin then, relieved and playful, and suddenly wrapped his arms around Akaashi’s waist to lift him into the air and spin him around and around. 

In some small way, Akaashi thought it felt almost like flying again.

* * *

 

When Kenma received an audience request from Yaku, he was surprised to see the General enter his chambers in a more convalescent state than even himself.  His eyes flew straight to the bandages around his neck, and he was vividly reminded of how the Black Cat soldier’s throat had been slit after his insides had been run through. 

“Did that—what happened…?”

“Oh, this?” Yaku gestured to his neck.  “Nothing major.  Let’s just say that Lev got a bit carried away.”  Yaku grinned a small while before his face fell suddenly.  “No, not… not like that.  It was nothing uncouth or inappropriate—well it was, but not in _that_ way… Um.” He slumped into a chair beside Kenma’s bed, only a little mortified.  “He was worried sick about you.  They both were.  They both still are.”

Kenma nodded silently.  Of course he knew they were concerned, but…

“There was a soldier.  A soldier who died when he tried to rescue me.  Please tell me his name.” 

“Fukunaga.  Fukunaga Shouhei.” 

“Fukunaga Shouhei,” Kenma repeated reverently.  “Did he have family?”

“Parents. We held a soldier’s funeral for him and his family.”

“I want them well looked after.  And well-compensated to the end of their days for the service their son provided to me.”  Kenma commanded softly.

“It’s already done.”

“I stole their only son from them…”

“My lord, no.” Yaku leaned forward, a stern expression upon his features.  “Do not pursue that line of thought.  As lord, you will have many and more offer their lives to your service—you cannot be overwhelmed by grief for every cat that dies for the good of the kingdom.  That is a guilt to which you must not give sway, or it’ll crush you where you stand.” 

“So I’m to shrug off their deaths as if they were nothing?”

“You must temper your grief.  Remember their sacrifices work toward a greater good and give weight to the future.”

“Fukunaga’s death wasn’t for the kingdom in some grand battle, he died for me personally—“

“You _are_ the kingdom.” Yaku pressed.  “You are the beating heart of Nekoma.  That is what it means to wear the crown.”

“So often I feel that you or Kuroo would make a better ruler than I ever could.” Kenma sighed, his fingers curling into the sheets.

“You’ve never given yourself enough credit.  If only you could have seen how lost we were without you.  Kuroo was beside himself; Lev hit a bit of a rebellious phase.  Even experienced his first love, betrayal, and heartbreak.”

“I haven’t heard that full story yet.”

“Ask him yourself then.  Why won’t you meet with them?”

Kenma reached up to touch the shorn hair on his head.  The nurses had evened the cut so it no longer looked especially horrid—it wasn’t too much shorter than Yaku’s now, though his tail looked much more miserable. 

“Just looking at me is a reminder of what happened,” Kenma muttered quietly.  “I know they’re worried.  But I know that looking at my current state will only make them feel worse.  I don’t want them to feel like they’ve failed.  And… I don’t want them to look at me with…”

Yaku crossed his arms.

“They’re stronger than that; I feel you owe them much more credit.  Especially Kuroo.  He’s seen in far more disgraceful circumstances as a kitten, no?” he teased.

“He’s been nothing but attentive, even though I keep turning him away…” Kenma sniffed.  “I feel ashamed that I ever doubted him.  Even for a second.  To think I carried such vanity in me…” Kenma bowed his head miserably, lamenting that he could no longer hide behind his long hair.  He brought up his hands to the sides of his face, covering them as best he could. 

“You’ll have to see them eventually.”

“Can’t I wait until my hair’s grown back?” Kenma moaned.

“Kenma.”

“You do a very good impression of Kuroo, I commend you.”

A knock came upon the door then, and one of the nurses stepped in with a quiet bow, holding up a small volume of fiction.

“Pardon my intrusion—Lord Kuroo has brought this book for your reading pleasure today.  Shall I set it down on your bedside table as usual?”

Yaku gave another pointed stare in Kenma’s direction, and the calico sighed, gritting his teeth. 

“Actually, Shibayama… if you could see Kuroo in, I’d appreciate it.”

Yaku smiled as he stood to take his leave, winking at the young nurse whose eyes lit up to hear Lord Kenma willing to meet with his guardian. 

“I’ll—I’ll bring him in straightaway!”

“And I will fetch Lev for you,” Yaku declared.  “Unless you prefer he come by a little later?”

“Perceptive, aren’t you?”

“Not half so observant as your good self, my lord.” Yaku gave a low bow.  “But I do my best where I can.  And now, I’ll take my leave.”

“Take care, General Yaku.”

A few moments after both Yaku and Shibayama had left the room, there came a gentle knocking on the door—a familiar sound.  Kuroo always knocked three times with two knuckles.  Kenma gripped the blankets atop his lap, taking several deep breaths to brace himself before he called,

“Come in.”

The door opened slowly, creaking unacceptably as Kuroo inched it open with agonizing slowness, and then he was standing in the doorway, hair also shaved and his eyes pointed sheepishly to the ground.  He closed the door quietly behind him before looking up, whispering Kenma’s name with softly and with _much_ longing. 

“Kenma…”

“Kuro…”

And Kenma’s voice was filled with equal longing, and pity, and sadness, the sound of which spurred Kuroo forward, making him dash to the bed and prostrate himself on his knees beside it.  He buried his face in the sheets and gripped Kenma’s hand tight between his own, his breath pouring out of him in relieved sighs. 

“Kenma… oh, Kenma…” he repeated, chanting Kenma’s name like a prayer. 

“Kuro…” Kenma felt hot tears spring to his eyes from the touch—and he had been trying so hard to stay put-together!

“I’m so sorry…” Kuroo whispered.

“No… don’t.  Please don’t be sorry.” Kenma pulled at his chin so their eyes could meet.  “You saved me.  You and Lev saved me.  You have nothing to apologize for.”

“We should’ve been faster somehow…” Kuroo reached up to touch Kenma’s head gently.  “I felt when they did this to you.”

“I know you did.”

“But I… I couldn’t kill him.” Kuroo whispered.  “I felt responsible for all of this somehow.  If I had been of better character as a kitten, maybe he would never have grown to resent me so.  Perhaps our kingdoms could have had a truly lasting peace and alliance.”

“How could you have known?” Kenma cradled Kuroo’s face in his hands.  “I was no better.  Perhaps if I hadn’t been so averse to company, you and Daishou might have had better relations.”

“Kenma, you can’t possible think to shoulder any of the blame for this situation—you are the victim in all this!”

“Pot, kettle.  I forbid you from blaming yourself if you are to forbid me from doing the same.”

Kuroo sighed through his nose, then slowly lay his head in Kenma’s lap, closing his eyes.  He took deep breaths, filling his lungs with Kenma’s scent and savoring the feel of Kenma’s warmth against him.

“How I’ve missed you… You can’t begin to know…”

“I have some idea,” Kenma murmured softly, running his fingers through Kuroo’s coarse, shortened hair.  “You didn’t have to do this to yourself for me.  It looks awful on you.” 

Kuroo laughed into Kenma’s thigh, and his breath was warm through the blankets, his voice full of low, happy vibrations.  It made Kenma smile for the first time in what felt like forever, sending flutters through his heart.

“Lev cut his hair too.  Slightly different reasons, I think.  And all it did was make him look the same as before.”

“What a trio we make…”

“We could convince the magisters to join us…” Kuroo mused.

“We would appear a cult to the people,” Kenma pouted.  And speaking of the people… “Ah… I wish I could feign convalescence forever… but there is the matter of what we ought to do with our scaly guests.”

Kuroo lifted his head, sitting himself up properly beside Kenma.  “You decided against execution.”

“Despite all reason pointing me to do the exact opposite, you mean?” Kenma gave a half-hearted smirk.  “If I did, Nohebi would appoint a regent of some sort and march against us with what few forces they have.  Our losses would be minor, and they would be crushed beneath our clawed heel.  But the thought of such pointless bloodshed frightens me—even for people not my own.  Does that make me weak, I wonder?”

“I think it makes you merciful.”

“That means weak.” Kenma grumbled.

“It means _merciful_.” Kuroo insisted. 

“Only history will tell if my inevitable course of action will be brilliance or folly.  But there’s an idea I’ve been considering.” 

“You have?”

“I’ve been in bed for days; I’ve had much time to think on things, including some matters of state.  It’s a welcome distraction, whatever doctor Kai tells me.”  Kenma moved to twirl his fingers through his hair and touched only air—a nervous habit that now served as a painful reminder of what he had lost.  “I need a hood of some kind before leaving this room.”

“We’ll summon the royal tailor at once then.” Kuroo smirked.

* * *

 

It was hours later when a gentle knock at the door revealed Lev, entering the room as bashfully as Kuroo had.  But Kenma welcomed him warmly, and soon Lev was kneeling on the other side of his bed, apologizing profusely and begging for forgiveness.

“This must be what déjà vu feels like.” Kenma muttered.

“—and I should have realized what a double-crossing, lying, devious pretender she was, but—“

“Lev!” Kenma clamped a hand over Lev’s mouth.  “I wasn’t here for any of that, and I’m not angry with you.”

“Mmphmmhm b—“ Lev mumbled through Kenma’s hand.

“Oh for heaven’s sake—“ Kenma removed his hand before Lev slobbered all over it. 

“Not even for what I did to Kuroo?  To General Yaku?”  Lev’s lip quibbled.

“They’re the ones that have to forgive you for that, not me.  And to my knowledge, they already have.  So stop this nonsense and raise your head.”

“I don’t understand why no one is furious with me.  I’ve been such a…”

“You’re angry enough with yourself, Lev.” Kuroo interrupted.  “It’s clear you’ve learned your lesson, and in the end, everything managed to turn out all right.”

“Though I admit, I think I would’ve liked to see Lev, head held high, long luscious locks swaying in the breeze, strutting around the palace like a mighty lion and roaring away all who dared to cross him.” Kenma giggled.

“Ahhhh!!  Please don’t joke!” Lev covered his ears.  “Kuroo, what did you tell him?!  It was awful—don’t think of me that way—forget about it, please!”

“But you were only trying to prove yourself worthy, weren’t you?” Kenma said softly, suddenly very serious.  “Because you’ve always thought of yourself as a lesser guardian than Kuroo… and some of that is our fault.”

“No, Kenma, that’s—“

“Let me finish, Lev.” Kenma held up a hand.  “Between the three of us, we must have total transparency.  We share each other’s lives more intimately than anyone, and we must all be open and honest with one another.”

“I know…” Lev bowed his head.  “I’m sorry I—“

“We’re not talking about you, Lev, we’re talking about us.” Kuroo rolled his eyes, but his smile was ever gentle, ever kind.  “We’re the ones who haven’t been entirely honestly with you.”

“Eh?”

“The truth is, Lev… Kuro and I… we’re… um…” Kenma fidgeted with his fingertips.  “We’re sharing a bed.”

“Well I know Kuroo sleeps in this room at times, I’m not as blind as all that.” Lev laughed.  “I figured it was an old habit from growing up together.”

“No, Lev… We’re not just sleeping together, we’re… _sleeping_ together.”

When Lev continued to present a blank look on his face, Kuroo made his attempt.  “Lev, our relationship is like that of Lord Akaashi and Bokuto.  We’re intimate.  And madly in love.”

“Kuro, you’re being embarrassing.”

“I’m being honest!”

“You’re embellishing.  In any case, Lev… the reason you might have felt—“

“Is that allowed?” Lev asked, eyes wide.  “Or rather, isn’t it?  The owls seem so open about it—why did you feel the need to keep it secret?  I wouldn’t have minded—or was it because of me?” 

“It was more what the magisters might make of it,” Kuroo supplemented.  “At some point they would want an heir to the throne… and of course, guardians are meant as protectors, not lovers.  Some might question my consent in all this when I’m bound to obey my lord in all things.  It undermines our overall authority and lowers our venerable station.” 

“But then there’s no question of your loyalty,” Lev muttered.  “Is being in love so bad?  It feels so oddly discouraged.  At least, for those in our station.”

“Lev… you really don’t mind?” Kenma asked quietly.  These were not the questions he was expecting. 

“Are you asking me if I’m jealous?  I suppose I’ve always been a little envious of Kuroo, but it certainly wasn’t because of _this_.” 

“Envious of me?”

“But!  But I do have… a question.  If I may.”

“Ask away, Lev.”

“Even with all the secrecy and the potential disapproval… you’d still pursue this?  It’s worth so much to you?”

“Everything and more.” Kuroo replied. 

“I’m sorry we kept this from you.  We should have told you from the start.  I want us to trust each other.” Kenma took Lev’s hand. 

“Honestly, I’m not sure I could have properly understood all this before.  But now I believe I know better.  Some things.  Though there are still many things I’ll struggle to understand.”

“I’m sorry for the heartbreak you suffered at my expense.  It was quite cruel, what they did to you.” Kenma ran his fingers through Lev’s hair gently.  “Maybe next time, you’ll have better luck.”

“If I’m permitted a next time.” Lev laughed.

“Opportunities abound, Lev.” Kenma smiled.  “Some may be closer than you think.

“Just remember to look down.” Kuroo teased as Kenma shot him an extremely unamused glare.

* * *

 

“I’ve thought long and hard about what to do with you.” Kenma stood outside Daishou’s solitary cell in the dungeons, Kuroo and Lev beside him. 

“Is it so difficult to stain your pretty hands with blood?” Daishou mocked from the gloom.  “You’ve never ordered an execution before, have you, my little lord?” 

“You’re not in control anymore, Daishou.” Lev hissed.  “And if you had any real honor, you’d have taken your life already and spared us the trouble.”

“Stand down, Lev.” Kenma commanded quietly.

“Oh, but the lion isn’t wrong.”

“Tell me true, Daishou.  Would you really have killed us in the end?”

After a long silence, Daishou whispered low.

“Had everything gone according to plan, Nekoma and Fukurodani would have gone to war with each other.  I didn’t care how many might have died that way.  I’d have watched from the sidelines and laughed as you destroyed your most treasured ally.  But I’ll admit this: Kuroo, I wanted to kill myself with my own two hands.”

Kuroo crossed his arms, but he did not approach the bars.

“I can’t deny that in a way, we made you what you are.  Kuro still feels responsible for you somehow, and as such, I’ve decided to respect his earlier display of mercy and grace.” 

“You would release me?”

“I said we wouldn’t execute you.  Not that we would release you.  You will be our prisoner to the end of your days.  Never will you know the taste of freedom again.  This dungeon will be your home, and you will rot in it for years as you deserve.”

“…what of my kingdom?  My guardians?  Mika?”

“I wouldn’t have thought you cared for them, blinded as you were by your obsession.  But they have agreed to tie their fates to yours.  You inspire some loyalty in them yet.  Or perhaps it’s their inherent sense of honor and duty.  All except the one you left behind to serve as a hostage—Kuguri.  He has bent the knee and sworn allegiance to me.”

Daishou smiled bitterly.  “He was the least like us.  Loyal enough, but never keen on self-sacrifice.”

“So he takes after you then.” Kuroo quipped.

“Precissssely.  All the more reason for me to trust him least of all.”

“Kuguri has told us much about the state of affairs at Nohebi.  As I understand it, you may have inherited a grim lot, but you did little to try and improve your situation, Daishou.  Its current state of ruin is as much on you as it is on your predecessor.”

“Oh, how the fortunate like to preach to those down below…” Daishou sighed.  “So what will you do then?  Appoint Kuguri to be Ruler in my stead and broker a treaty with him between our kingdoms?”

“That was one of my first thoughts, yes.  But I’m no longer naïve.  I, like you, can no longer bring myself to trust any of your court.  Your example has ruined their chances of receiving good faith from me.  I am gathering my armies to march.  Kuguri will march with me.  Together, we will make Nohebi’s royal council bend the knee as he has, and give up any claims to kingship and independence.  Nohebi will become a state of Nekoma, bound to our laws.  So long as they prove their loyalty and devotion, the citizenry need not suffer.  If Nekoma prospers, so will they, as they will all eventually gain citizenship under my crown.”

“What if they refuse you?” Daishou asked quietly.

“They won’t risk their own annihilation.” Lev replied.

“You see, I’ve learned a thing or two about being cold-blooded.” Kenma said flatly, staring down Daishou with gleaming gold eyes.  “Perhaps in time, you’ll learn a thing or two about compliance."

“You offer my people the heel of your boot and call it deliverance?”

“They stopped being _your_ people the instant you selfishly decided to act against us for the sake of some petty, childhood revenge!” Kuroo snarled.  “The Ruler lives and acts for his people, for their well-being.  When you forsook your kingly duties, you forsook your crown!” 

“What do you know of it?!  Nohebi is mine!”

“No, Daishou.  You’re wrong.” Kenma whispered.  “Now, it is mine.”

And then Kenma turned swiftly on his heel, pulling his hood up over his head as he took his leave, Kuroo and Lev following beside him.  They left Daishou alone to the cold inky darkness, alone with only his bitter thoughts and the cold echo off the stone walls.

* * *

 

“I think that’s looking good enough if you don’t want to wear the bandages anymore, General.” Doctor Kai smiled as he discarded the last of the gauze wraps from Yaku’s neck.  “There’s still a visible scar, no guarantee that it’ll ever fade completely, I’m afraid.  And for the next two weeks, I want you to apply this salve daily and after every bath.”

“Thank you, doctor.  I’ve imposed on your time for far too long, I know.”

“It’s a doctor’s job to be imposed upon.  And you are not one of my fussier patients.” 

“Well… that’s a relief to hear.  I suppose?”  A nurse brought Yaku a small, handheld mirror so that he could examine his neck.  “I think the scars make me look quite rugged.  Battle-worn.  Every new season of cadets will whisper about it!”

“And yet, the truth is vastly more interesting.” Dr. Kai teased.  “An injury given by a former student, now guardian, in a fit of unexpected rage.”

“The same student that still occasionally trips over his own tail when walking on stairs.  Yes that’ll inspire terror.  It’s definitely better to let them wonder about it.”

“Then they won’t hear the truth from me.” The doctor put a finger to his lips.  “I am, after all, quite well-versed in doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“Thank you.”

Yaku gave a last bow to the doctor and his staff before heading out of the infirmary for good.  He was only a few paces out the door when he discovered Lev waiting for him down the hallway.  The lion held two apples in his hands, and he gently tossed one his way.

“The three of us were in the orchard, and a few of the trees had quite a few pieces of ripe apples!” Lev beamed.  “Oh!  Your bandages!”

“The doctor’s given the okay.  I don’t need them anymore.” 

And then suddenly Lev was kneeling in front of him, one hand gently reaching out to touch the scars.  It was odd to feel such a gentle touch from a giant, bumbling idiot like Lev.  (It was also odd to have Lev below his eye level, but satisfying too).  But as tender as it was, Lev’s fingers on Yaku’s skin burned like fire, and sent shudders down his spine.  Yaku swallowed hard. 

“Will the scars go away?” Lev asked, his brows furrowed.

“Hard to say for sure.” Yaku replied.  His mouth felt suddenly, incredibly dry. 

“I’m sorry.” Lev whispered.

“Lev.  Stop apologizing.” Yaku whispered back.  He gripped Lev’s fingers with his own, pulling the burning touch off his skin.  The absence of his touch was more unpleasant than having it. 

“But—“

“It’ll make a good story for new recruits.  They’ll ask and wonder about it like a mysterious battle wound.  I don’t mind it at all.”

“General, hit me.” Lev suddenly squeezed his eyes shut and brought his fists to his sides.  Kneeling there with his eyes closed, he looked even more ridiculous than usual. 

“What?”

“Hit me!  I just… I think if you hit me, just once, we’ll be even!”

“Lev, that’s ridiculous, I’m not just going to—“

“General, please hit me!”

“I’m _not_ going to—“

“Just one good punch!”

“Lev!!!”

“General Yaku!!!”

“Oh, for the love of—“ Yaku roared.

Lev shut his eyes tight.  But what followed was not a harsh meeting of Yaku’s fist against his face, but a gentle press of soft lips on his forehead. 

“Eh?”

His mouth fell open before his eyes.  By the time he had blinked the confusion away, Yaku had run most of the length of the hallway away from him—the fastest Lev had ever seen the General run.

“Eh?!?!” Lev screeched.  “General?  _General!_ Yaku!!!”

Stumbling, he scrambled to his feet to run after his teacher, his friend, his definitely-something-else-too-by-this-point.

* * *

 

Being open with Lev had its advantages.  For one, Kuroo didn’t have to sneak into Kenma’s chambers in the middle of the night when he thought no one would notice.  He simply strolled in at his leisure, whether Lev was around or not.  Though it was still a little easier when he wasn’t.  Kenma was quite grateful—he was having trouble sleeping without Kuroo actually.  But simply having the panther’s warmth beside him was enough to quiet his hyperactive thoughts, and if Kuroo read to him in his softest voice while scratching behind his ears, Kenma could even fall asleep purring. 

“Was annexing Nohebi the magisters’ idea?” Kuroo asked as they crawled into bed after the long day.  His limbs fell heavy into the sheets, his eyelids already drooping. 

Kenma curled into his side beneath the blankets, clinging tight as he closed his eyes and settled in for sleep. 

“It was my idea,” he murmured. 

“That’s a surprise.” Kuroo raised an eyebrow.  “It’s brilliant.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.  We still have to march and make the annexation formal.  We may have to fight.  Even if we don’t, the Nohebi citizens won’t accept me as their sovereign right away.  I suspect there will be no shortage of revolts, riots… protests… even assassination plots.  Even if I give this new state near-autonomy, it’s the principle of the matter that’ll displease many.  I think Daishou’s citizens must share some of his great pride.” 

“Even so, given their current state of affairs… they may be happy to bend the knee to you.” Kuroo mused, wrapping an arm under Kenma’s neck and absentmindedly tracing circles against Kenma’s shoulder. 

“I’m no savior,” Kenma whispered.  “I won’t delude myself into thinking like that.”

“Hm… might be for the best.  Still… I’ll hold out hope that it all turns out better than we fear.  I’m an optimist.”

Kenma buried his face into the side of Kuroo’s chest, grumbling slightly.  He had planned out so many variations of the same plan, mapped out the potential outcomes and the best responses he could think of for however the tide might turn… but he just couldn’t feel prepared.  The possibility of war weighed heavily against his heart—the fear of it outweighed most other thoughts. 

“I keep hoping it’ll get easier.” Kenma whispered.  “That one day, I’ll wake up and be a Ruler without any doubts.  Every decision will come easily, and I’ll have the wisdom and experience to choose without fear.  Akaashi seems so secure in his position—I still feel like a kitten learning to walk.  Every time I stumble, I have to start from the beginning anew.”

“Those who rule without fear are typically considered tyrants.” Kuroo offered.  “A healthy dose of doubt lends itself to informed decisions.  Sleep now.  That’s enough for tonight.”

“Will it never get simpler?”

“Afraid not.” Kuroo kissed Kenma’s forehead.  “But we have each other at the very least, my kitten.”

“Calling me ‘kitten’ makes me feel even less a lord.” Kenma pouted.

“Would you rather I called you lord?”

“Never.  You alone… call me _love_.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are~ At the end of another long Kuroken journey! All of your wonderful comments and support have meant the world to me as I've worked on this story, which may be my first real attempt at a plot-line that wasn't mostly slice-of-life. It's been a pleasure to meet and work with Mookie too on a project like this, and I appreciate how much freedom she gave me to work with her universe. I fell in love with her world many times over as I worked on this, and this is going to be a very special work to me always. 
> 
> Final thoughts, questions, comments, concerns, constructive criticism, I welcome all of it!! Incoherent keyboard smashing, heart emojis, I love every single bit of feedback people feel inclined to give~ And please, feel free to chat with me on tumblr or twitter about Haikyuu, Kuroken, or whatever else really! 
> 
> My next project will be a fireman!AU Kuroken commission for Faiyuuhi, which I'm very excited about, and I hope some of you will stick around to see how that unfolds too!
> 
> Tumblr: nimbus-cloud.tumblr.com  
> Twitter: @Luna_Dreaming


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